Mothering In Community

When God Wore Diapers

2011-12-26T21:46:00.006-06:00

I was never one for Christmas. For most of my life, the annoyances and stress outweighed the good parts for me. I loved Thanksgiving. Loved it. Then December would show up, and I would resign myself to yet another year of busyness and awkward social situations. (Sidebar: Please attribute this disposition to my adolescent belief that cynicism was the same thing as wisdom, more than to any particularly scarring holiday experience.)

But then I had to go and fall in love with the world's biggest fan of Christmas. And as these things often play out, over the six holiday seasons we've shared (five as husband and wife), I have found increasing measures of real joy and anticipation in myself on December 1st. Add to this the fact that our 22 month old daughter kind of knows what's going on now, and I can say I genuinely enjoy Christmas. But I've gotta tell ya, this year I got my ass handed to me on a holiday-themed platter.

It's been a hectic semester for the Pintos. I started the internship for my counseling program, which means I am being a therapist for the first time -- doing all different kinds of therapy with different combinations of people and problems. The understatement of the century is that this has been hard on my emotions. I've written on here about brokenness, and that's really what I keep coming back to. Guys, our world is broken. Things are not going the way they were meant to go. I have always had sufficient evidence in my own black heart of the need for a Savior, but now I've got more. Like, a shitload more.

I was so looking forward to Christmas because it meant a respite from grad school and my internship, and lots of quiet family time with my man and our girl. Last Sunday, Dec. 18th, I had turned in my last papers and I was looking at a two day work week and then vacation. I woke up Monday morning feeling a little funny, and by noon I was laid out with a stomach virus. It was miserable and humbling (and nobody is ever as sympathetic as I want them to be when I'm sick...are you this way, too?), and I wasn't back to 100% until mid-week.

On Thursday morning, Dec. 22nd, I received a phone call that a precious girl I knew had lost her battle with cancer. She was 28 years old, just out of the starting gate in so many ways. For about three months before she had to stop working, we had done cotherapy at one of my internship sites. While I only knew her for a short time, we bonded quickly simply because this is often the nature of cotherapy and, of course, because my cotherapist had cancer. Generally, people come to therapy because they have big questions; they want to talk about life and death matters. So Kendra and I kind of jumped right in to some very real stuff with people. And her own diagnosis led to some pretty intense conversations between the two of us, over lunch or in between appointments, during which she displayed an iron will and an unshakable zest for life. I will not tell you much more, because remembering those conversations feels holy and sacred and like none of your damn business. But I will tell you that she was beautiful and graceful and strong, and she was too young to die.

The funeral was yesterday morning. I didn't go. People almost always say really stupid things at funerals, and I do not yet trust myself to respond graciously. She was too young. That's what I keep coming back to. Death and disease. These are surely the purest forms of evil on our planet. They do not discriminate; they are cold and heartless and blind. And I swear if anyone tries to talk to me about the sovereignty of God, I will probably slap them across the face. This is not what God intended. If I'm going to trust Him, then I have to believe that He is grieving now with me and with people who knew her much longer than I did, and with her family. Her family. Lord, have mercy.

Is there a way out? Where is hope? Unfortunately, there is not a way out of dying. That is one of the few guarantees of life, and I do believe we would all be wise to get more comfortable with that fact. It would, in reality, make life better and more precious.

But the answer, it's on the other side of death. I was pouring my heart out that Thursday with a trusted advisor, wondering if I had been a "good enough" friend to Kendra, and just generally feeling utterly helpless. He asked me if I believe I will see Kendra again. I said, "Yeah. Yes, I do." He said, "I believe when you see her for the first time in eternity, you will exchange knowing smiles. No words will be needed, for she will know what it was like to have been you, and you will know what it was like to have been her...and you'll just smile at each other." There is real comfort in that for me.

I do not believe death will get the final word. I do not believe that disease gets to have her body - or any of our bodies - forever. We will be redeemed. Surely it is a powerful God who can defeat death. It is a mighty God indeed who will demolish and decimate this evil away from us and for all of eternity.

This is the God I believe in. This is the hope I have: that whoever got us into this mess in the first place, it won't matter, because He has provided, is providing, and will provide a way out. He is the only real game changer. And He did it in the unlikeliest of ways. He "became flesh and made his dwelling among us." (John 1:14) God came as a man in the person of Jesus Christ. And as things go around here, He came as the infant Jesus Christ. Wait a second. A baby? Seriously?! The almighty, infinite, all-wise Creator of everything...as a baby?! Diapers and drool and learning how to walk. The whole bit. That's how He did it.

So if this is how He defeated such powerful adversaries as death and evil -- in humility, in quietness -- how am I to follow His example? Well, I'm gonna need to get back to you in about 50 years because that's probably how long it's gonna take me to really unpack that. But for now I will tell you that I am going to keep calling the brokenness what it is, not excusing it or accepting it, and in fact fighting against it with all I am. But I am going to really try to carry humility in my heart at the same time. I'm going to try to be gracious, and I will love whoever is in front of me as best I can in any given moment. Because moments are really all we have, and they pass so quickly.

O come, o come, Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear

Rejoice, rejoice! Emmanuel has come to thee, O Israel.

Spend Less :: What do you really want?

2011-12-05T11:58:00.002-06:00

Waterdeep is, in my opinion, one of the best bands of the last 20 years. Never mind that they have a smaller following than, say, Limp Bizkit or Matchbox 20 or LMFAO. They are awesome. I started listening to them circa 1997 and I simply have not stopped. Because of this, their songs have basically become the soundtrack of my life. The Christmas season is no different, and to get the ball rolling on my post encouraging us all to spend less, I offer a few lines from one of my most favorite Waterdeep songs, “If You Want To Get Free.”

I am so often deterred from my actual intent
By distractions in a cellophane wrap.
And by a cruel voice that taunts me when I open them up
To find just one more box full of crap.

What is our actual intent in gift-giving? I happen to be of the persuasion that, generally speaking, when people set out to do good things, it is because they have good motivations. As time passes our motivation can get clouded, but perhaps we can retrieve the essence of what we want to achieve by retracing our steps.

Have you, or do you know someone who has, bought progressively more expensive Christmas gifts over the years for their spouse or family members? Five years ago, you agreed on a spending limit of $50. But then one of the involved parties had to go and spend $65, which of course made the other involved party feel a little embarrassed. So the next year you said, “Seventy-five dollars, and that’s all. I mean it!” But one thing led to another and this Christmas you’ll end up spending $250 on each other. Why? Again, I am an eternal optimist, and so I am going to choose to focus on the nobler motivations at play here.

1. I want to celebrate you. You are very special to me, and you have done and been for me when maybe I couldn’t do or be for myself. This makes me feel humbled and grateful. As such, I want you to feel treasured.

2. I want to bless you. We will celebrate our second Christmas with our daughter this year, and when she saw our Christmas tree for the first time last week, I am pretty sure I got more joy from watching the wonder on her sweet face than she did from having the actual experience. Parenthood is amazing that way. Our children are the most precious gifts we have ever received, and so we want them to feel treasured.

3. I want to share love where it maybe wouldn’t be shared otherwise. You can’t repay me. Maybe you won’t even know who I am. But I’ll know that you had a good meal and some warm moments because of me. Every human being on this planet deserves love, and so we want to share that love with as many people as possible this holiday season.

Like I said, I’m focusing on the nobler motivations here. Perhaps the stupid White Elephant gift you have to take to the office party for the job you don’t even enjoy very much – perhaps that doesn’t fit into any of those three categories. Um, you’re on your own there. But I think these three motivations cover most of our gift giving anyway.

For me (and maybe for you), base motivations for gift giving have absolutely nothing with a price tag. It’s not a formula like, “I want you to feel loved + I spend $100 = You feel loved.” And anyway, times are tough for a lot of folks right now. So I wrap up this blog post with a few practical ideas for ways to achieve your actual intent for the holiday season without spending tons of moolah.

1. Go handmade. Listen, you don’t have to be Martha Stewart. In fact, for these three ideas, you probably only have to be moderately conscious to achieve a pretty impressive result.

2. I’m cheesy, sappy, et al…therefore, I love receiving the little coupon books that offer stuff like free babysitting, a homecooked meal, cleaning the bathroom (the bane of my existence!), and so on.

3. Give experiences rather than material items. This report aired on NPR in 2009, which explained a scientific study that discovered people get more enjoyment out of fun experiences than they do out of receiving gifts. A person’s enjoyment of, say, an iPod will diminish over time. But if you can give someone a good experience (a nice dinner, tickets to a play, a gift certificate for a manicure), their enjoyment of that experience actually increases in their memory. The material item may break or get boring or become outdated; but the memory of that fun experience really does – is scientifically proven to – get better with each retelling. The implications here are rather compelling.

For what it’s worth, my husband and I have given homemade hot chocolate mix to our friends and family the last few years, to rave reviews. And we are starting a new tradition this year of spending a good portion of our Christmas money on taking a family trip. This year we will spend a couple of days in the lodge of Mt. Magazine State Park, and I have got to say, I am looking forward to that weekend so much – probably more than anything else that is on this month's calendar.

Spend less, friends. It's not about the money. People don't need money. We actually only need a very few basic things. Food, shelter, clothing...and love. So give something that really matters this holiday season. Give of yourself.

thank you

2011-11-17T13:26:00.003-06:00

Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridge to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water looking out
in different directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you
in a culture up to its chin in shame
living in the stench it has chosen we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the back door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks that use us we are saying thank you
with the crooks in office with the rich and fashionable
unchanged we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
our lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us like the earth
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is

-- W. S. Merwin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So here's what's going on -- life is really hard, for almost everybody. No, for everybody. There is not one person left unstained by the brokenness of this world, wrought either by their own hand or by the hand of another. Or both.

Each day that passes finds me more convinced of this bitter reality -- brokenness.

And for every new outward event that proves the brokenness to me, there is an almost one-to-one ratio of some inward event that - lest I be tempted to view the brokenness piously - makes it impossible for me to do so.

The world is broken. I am broken. And the world is broken.

I am broken. Also, I am redeemed. There have been some moments, so bright and expansive and hope-filled, when the redemption is so undeniable. Who could make beauty from ashes? Who could actually take the death and waste and (seemingly) useless parts of me, and transform them to life and purpose and power? Not me, not on my own.

I am broken. I am redeemed. Also, I am being redeemed.

Also, the world is being redeemed. Close to me, and far from me. Light always beats darkness. Love always beats fear. I have some evidence of this now, and I cling to it. Because I know one day (oh, I ache...let it be soon) we will have all the evidence we need.

"Oh, how I long for love to beat fear in your life. How I long for you to trust me! Lift up your eyes. I am calling out to you a thousand times a day, in a thousand different ways, to show you the beauty and the life and the power that is available to you. It's scary; I know it is terrifying. Because the cost is nothing less than losing the very life you've held so tightly. The life you still clench with white knuckles.

"You have spirit, that's for sure, and courage. But will you come to Gethsemane? Do you have the courage to have it out with me here? In Gethsemane, one does not have the luxury of hypotheticals. Oh, but one can find comfort, and purpose. And resurrection. Come to me, and you will find rest for your soul. Lose your life, and you will find it. This is the mystery. And this is the Truth."

thank you thank you thank you

See, what you need to understand is...

2011-10-21T12:30:00.010-05:00

"See, what you need to understand about Dean is..."

I was working at an advertising agency, and I think I was about 23. I had just been publicly, loudly, and colorfully reprimanded by my boss, Dean (not his real name). Everyone around this scene knew that I had done nothing wrong, that it was just a misunderstanding. But nobody spoke up. I just had to take it, apparently.

I was speechless. Dumbfounded. By God's grace, I somehow did not cry, but I'm sure I looked like a scared little girl. Dean's #2, who had witnessed the scene, came up to my desk after about 15 minutes and said, "See, what you need to understand about Dean is...he's a really good marketer. He is really sharp and really creative. He just moves too fast sometimes, and he doesn't really know how to handle people. I'm really sorry for his behavior. Are you okay?"

Okay? Even at 23 years old, I knew I was NOT okay and that what had just happened was NOT okay. That was the beginning of the end for me and that company. I was never assertive with Dean - never had the chance - and I naively thought, "If I leave this company, I'll leave this jerk behind and not have to deal with this crap anymore." I didn't yet realize that there are jerks everywhere. I somehow avoided more Deans in my professional life, but do you know where they have showed up since then? I'll give you three choices:

1. Church
2. Church
3. Church

Did you say "Church?" If so, you're the winner!

And this is the hang up for me. Because if some crazy dude at some tiny ad agency wants to be a jerk, that's fine. It's not good, but it's his deal and not my deal and I'll get over it. But aren't people in the church accountable to a higher purpose, a higher way of doing things? Aren't we, as the church, accountable to God and each other? Of course we are.

And church people are still people, and not perfect, and all that. I get that. I really do. But when this girl sees a pattern forming, she is gonna try to figure it out.

So. I decided to study the local church, and I figured out a way to get credit for it in one of my classes by getting more specific and studying the American megachurch. I am going to share some of what I learned here as background.

Businesses love to study megachurches. They see them as successful, creative, and lucrative. Forbes magazine has referred to megachurch pastors as "essentially CEOs who successfully address many of the same issues that challenge their business brethren." Megachurches are designed -- and this is stated in various ways explicitly and implicitly -- to grow resources (people, money, land, buildings) as much as possible in order to display the "big-ness" of God. "Big" experiences are also part of the mix here, as they are constantly pushing towards the cutting edge in terms of music, technology, and creative events.

So, that's the goal. How do they support and work towards achieving this goal? Essentially, by fashioning every aspect of the church around the goal.

1. The Pastor is offered as relatable, accessible, and highly visible to the congregants.

2. The large support staff is able to provide many services in-house (graphic design, counseling services for congregants, food and hospitality services) that were hitherto unavailable in this arena.

3. Architecture. One article I read drew a distinction between the "vertically-aligned" buildings of the traditional church, and the "horizontally-aligned" buildings of today's megachurch. The traditional (Catholic, generally speaking) church was built to overwhelm the congregant with the majesty and big-ness of God, with its high ceilings and ornate statues and crucifixes. But today's megachurch buildings are designed to be approachable, comfortable, and utilitarian. The congregant comes to church, but it "feels" more like a shopping mall or community center. Basically, this new architecture is centered on the congregant rather than on God.

4. Symbols. Old church symbols: think crucifix, statues of saints, the Communion table. The megachurch, on the other hand, abandons these heavily religious images for images of...well, of people. Websites, promotional materials, and of course the huge projection screens. All of these have images of people enjoying each other, or enjoying their time of worship, or being reverent.

And this is the crux: the megachurch offers the personal experience on a grand scale. Goh (2007) refers to this as "performing the mega." The megachurch relies heavily on creating "mega" experiences (grandness of scale, variety of options, etc.) for its congregants in order to display the "mega"-ness of God.

So far, this discussion of the megachurch has just been discussion. Now I will move into some of my criticisms of this model, and in order to do that, I think I need to share my personal experience to be completely honest with you.

I am an evangelical. I am female. And I am a worship leader. Oh, and I live in Arkansas. That is the nutshell of my dilemma. I am called and gifted as a worship leader, and I have been supported in this gifting by the Body, to a point. I am not exaggerating when I tell you that every church I have joined with in ministry (as a member) has brought up my gender as a detriment to ministry at some point. Correction: the leader of the church, rather than the members of the congregation, has had some sort of conversation with me about my gender. Here's a sampling of what I've heard:

"You know, I think from now on we're just gonna hire a male for this position. It'll just be easier." [I was briefly employed here.]

"This will be the first time I hire someone for this position, and I think I want that person to be a male. Maybe we'll hire a female in the future, but not this time."

"I am thinking I may need to hire a male this time because I'm considering the chemistry of my team."

Message received. My gender is a detriment. At least as far as they are concerned. I kind of like my gender. It's pretty great. I like being pretty, and a wife, and I get to have babies which is also pretty miraculous and awesome. Further, I am confident in what God wants me to do. While some of the people I have encountered do take theological exception with females in leadership, I am not one of those people. And I have peace about this. And it's actually because of a John Piper book, which I will tell you about if you really want to know but I don't want to get too far off topic.

But most of these do not take theological exception. They have told me that they fully support my desire and gifting. However, they are considering factors other than what the Bible says about me and my gifting. If a church is primarily concerned with "performing the mega," which is to say, reaching as many people as possible with as broad and inoffensive a message as possible in order to grow resources as much as possible...and if this church is in Arkansas...it boils down to this -- it's just easier to hire a male worship leader. It's less controversial. Or at least, it's just more expected.

You may not be surprised to know that this has been hard for me to deal with. It has been very hurtful. Because these church leaders are not business executives. It's church. It's not business.

I've been in at least three (maybe more, but who's counting?) hurtful situations regarding gender and calling and yada yada. And I kid you not...each time, I saw the "Dean scene" replayed before me. This is how it goes --

Head honcho #1 says something to me that is really, really crappy. See the above quotes.

Everyone else knows it's crappy. I don't speak up for myself, and they don't speak up for me either. OR I do speak up for myself, but it doesn't change anything.

Eventually, honcho #2 comes along to smooth things over. #1 has disappeared, apparently. Either doesn't know, or doesn't care, what's going on with me. And here's what #2 says...

"See, what you need to understand about Dean is...he's just way ahead of the rest of us. He's been hurt a lot in his life, and so he doesn't really have any soft skills with people. I mean, he's just got so much on his plate, that he can't possibly be expected to care about every little thing..." And so on. And then #2 apologizes on behalf of #1, and tries to coach me regarding my further interactions with #1. Because...I guess...it's my problem...? It's weird, people. Just weird.

Okay. Why do I need to understand anything? And I am proud to say that, finally, after the third take of this particular scene, I was able to say in that moment that I was not okay with my life or self-respect revolving around #1 like -- apparently -- everyone else was. I am supposed to live at peace with everyone, as far as it depends on me. And this one...this one doesn't depend on me. So. Peace.

I am glad that I finally did that, and I really do have peace. But...

I am of the belief that if I find myself in an unfortunate situation more than once or twice, I need to not only examine the situation in order to avoid it...I also need to examine myself. Because apparently, there is something about me that is contributing to this mess. I've been doing lots of that self-examination lately.

There are two things that I have learned, and I'm going to be completely and brutally honest here:

-- I was looking for significance (which is okay), but I was looking in the wrong place for that significance. Maybe I was not fully confident in myself, and I needed someone else to bolster that. Unfortunately, I kept seeking this from people who were incapable of encouraging me for whatever reason. And these days, when I'm feeling shaky or negative about myself, I take it to God and to people that I know love me and have my best interest in their hearts. World of difference!

-- My ministry focus was too narrow. Since I have given up on gaining this sense of significance from the withholders, it's like the floodgates have opened! I am ministering more, and in more varied ways, than I ever thought possible. I cannot accurately express how much of an encouragement this is to me - and such a special gift from the Lord - that I am now in a season of my life where my calendar is literally flooding over with opportunities to make a a real Kingdom difference.

So, I know this is a really long blog post. But it's one that has been stewing around in my heart and mind for some time. I offer this as encouragement to those of you who may be wondering about your usefulness as a part of the Body, or wondering about the Lord's timing. I want you to be encouraged, and know that while the Body is imperfect, the Lord is perfect in all things. His love for you never fails. His plan for you is amazing! Trust Him! Lean on Him! Let Him heal and strengthen you. He will take care of the other stuff. Just move in closer to Him.

Thanks for reading. Peace to you.

Announcing...

2011-09-12T20:51:00.003-05:00

Chenal Family Therapy
10800 Financial Centre, Ste 490
Little Rock, AR 72211
501.786.9970 (ofc) 888.816.7916 (fax)

Hi Everyone -

I want to update you about a new program we're offering at Chenal Family Therapy, designed to help lower-income individuals and families get mental health services at a reduced cost.

Beginning today, Chenal Family Therapy will begin partnering with local graduate schools to help future therapists and counselors earn their required "practicum" hours as a step towards graduating and potential licensure.

Our "interns" who are nearing the completion of their graduate level training, will offer counseling and therapy services for substantially reduced hourly rates.

As part of providing this service, our interns will be supervised and coached by licensed and experience therapists, helping them to provide quality mental health care, as well as to grow as professionals.

Our first intern, Rachel Pinto, is pursuing her Master of Science degree in Marriage and Family Therapy and Community Counseling from John Brown University. Prior to being a graduate student, Rachel worked in a variety of fields including church ministry and as a high school teacher.

Rachel has a special interest in marriage counseling, step-families, and women's issues. Rachel approaches counseling from a systemic, emotionally-focused, and existential framework. As such, she strives to help her clients connect with themselves, their significant others, and their environment in new and deeper ways regarding the "big questions" of life. Rachel lives in North Little Rock, AR, with her husband of five years and their one year old daughter.

To learn more about our new reduced-rate therapy program or schedule a session with Ken Clark, Rachel Pinto, or another therapist, reply to this email or call us at 501.786.9970.

Ken Clark, MA, LAMFT
Licensed Associate Marriage & Family Therapist

The Help

2011-08-26T11:35:00.003-05:00

I saw "The Help." It wrecked me. In a good way. I set about putting my emotions into words on this here blog and simply could not get started. Then I realized that the main person I wanted to communicate with regarding this movie was my daughter. Since she's only 18 months old that's not entirely possible right now, so I wrote her a letter. I publish it here for your eyes today, and for her eyes when the time presents itself.

~~~~~~~~~

Dear Ava,

It is Monday, August 22, 2011. You will be eighteen months old tomorrow! I am not with you right now; I'm out of town on business, so I will miss your eighteen month birthday. However, I'll be home on the 24th and we are gonna have us one big celebration - because eighteen months is kind of a big deal, but also because you with or without an occasion are a big deal to me. So we're gonna eat spaghetti and eat cake and listen to music and watch Elmo and Grover - all of your current favorite things.

I saw a movie tonight called "The Help." I would love to watch it with you someday when you're a little older. This movie stirred up lots of emotions in me. I'd like to think that you are even now realizing that tears can come when someone is happy, or when they are sad, or when they are happy or sad for someone they really care about. Ok, maybe you don't have all of that yet, but I've cried in front of you a couple of times and you did not seem afraid or alarmed. You just studied me for a moment, and then went on with whatever you were doing. That is wonderful, Ava, that you accept people so simply. Anyway, about this movie...

I'm not going to tell you about the plot or the characters, because we will watch it and I want you to have the full experience. But there were women in this movie who, because they had darker skin than the people around them, were treated badly. All of them were treated badly, and some of them were treated very badly. Yet they showed strength and courage and they did not give up on what they believed in. They had hope in their hearts. And you know what I thought? I thought, I want Ava to know about these brave women. She needs to know where she came from, and understand that she also has that strength and courage and hope. You will learn the history of our nation, and parts of it are really bad. You will learn that white people used people of color to do the dirty work, and you will even see the leftovers of this arrangement in our present day. I wish I could protect you from this horrible reality, but I can't. So it's best for us to just face it head on.

People feel a lot of different things when they learn about this. Some people say it's not true, or it's not so bad, or everything is better. These people are lying, and usually people lie because they are afraid. Do not be like them. Other people get angry, and they start fights and call people bad names and break things. These people are also afraid. Please don't be like them.

Then some other people get angry, but they use their anger differently. They use it for good. They take the hardness of that energy and use it to push away the bad parts of our world. Then they take the softness of that energy and use it to increase good things like kindness and respect and love. If you can learn to be like these people, you will be wise.

I am so proud of you, Ava Denise. You are my heart, my very heart walking around in the world and the best thing about me. You love to laugh, and make new friends, and explore new things - that's how I know you have courage and strength inside you already. I simply cannot wait to be your mama for the rest of your life and watch this adventure unfold. I just love you!

Keeping House

2011-07-31T17:29:00.003-05:00

Hello faithful readers (both of you, haha). It's been awhile since I've posted. In fact, I could currently be working on stuff for my stats class, but I wanted to at least check in and share some of what has been swimming around in my head. Silence, in this case, does not mean that there has been nothing to report.

First...

"Love your enemies" is freaking hard. Lord, have mercy. That is all on this one.

Second...

My sister gave me Keeping House: The Litany of Everyday Life by Margaret Kim Peterson, and since I have had a teensy bit of free time this summer to indulge in some non-grad school reading, this was my pick. I'm almost done and I have been so encouraged by Peterson that there really, truly is God-ordained value in keeping house and taking care of one's family.

Essentially, I am a performer. I mean that in the positive and negative sense here, by the way. I do love the stage, and I can hog the stage fo' sheezy...BUT the positive side of this is that I really enjoy being among people and if that being with them also means we are working together to achieve something I really care about, that's even better. I did this sort of thing for 10 years, the last four being as a high school choir director. Then I quit teaching, got pregnant, had our sweet baby girl...and for awhile there, the most important thing about me was how much milk I could produce on any given day.

And I struggled. "Is this it?" I thought. "Is this all I do now?" I felt like the exciting stuff was happening out in the world, and while I love my daughter so much that most times I can't talk about this love without crying, many times I felt like I was simply fading away from relevant and meaningful interaction.

Peterson's book has helped me see that I was a victim of an internalized cultural bias against the duties of keeping house and, I believe, against women in general. That second thing is a huge can of worms among some evangelicals, and a whole 'nother post in and of itself, so I'll leave it alone. I think. :) The main thing I want to share is what I've learned from Ms. Peterson.

Did you know that the word "housekeeping" was not even in the English language until the late 19th century? Before the industrialization of the Western world, almost every family had a homestead. They all worked the land, and took care of the house and clothes and food -- together. Enter industrialization, and factories, and bigger cities...and many men are going to do the hard manual labor of the factory which leaves the women at home to keep house. Peterson submits that this was when the division of labor that we live with today (to some extent) came to be. She further asserts that the various appliances and gadgets that were created to make life easier actually did not achieve their function, but that we still expect ourselves to continually do more and be more.

Take food for an example. A typical weekday meal on the homestead consisted of a pot of stew (made from seasonal veggies and whatever meat was available, if any) that was placed near the fire in the morning and forgotten about until a bowl was eaten at lunch and a bowl was eaten at supper. But today, we have ovens and food processors and fancy gadgets and celebrity chefs constantly in our faces demonstrating how to cook these huge feasts ("in 30 minutes or less", right?) and even someone who loves cooking, like myself, can begin to think it's all just a little much. Peterson even goes so far as to refer to the TV networks and magazines and websites devoted to food as food porn. It is beautiful and alluring and, let's face it, unattainable.

So. Many people who could otherwise learn a few simple technniques in order to cook healthy meals for their family just give up before they even get started. Many others spend money and time and energy on pursuing the fantasy at the expense of the heart of the issue -- that is, loving and caring for your family.

There is a third group here as well: those who view housekeeping (Peterson's definition includes providing food, shelter, and clothing for one's family) as simple, menial, and by extension, insignificant. And if the work is insignificant, what does that say about the worker? And here is the heart of the matter. I felt like I was wasting away because I couldn't see the value in doing such simple things for my family. But Jesus' view is upside down from our cultural view, isn't it? He says the last will be first.

Many of Jesus' parables and teachings revolve around these everyday matters, as if God Himself values to the utmost what we refer to as mundane. The parable of the feast speaks of a king (probably the Lord) who prepares a feast, and when the people he invites don't show up, he invites others until his house is full. And what is He doing for us right now? He is in heaven, preparing a place for us and a magnificent wedding feast. (John 14:2, Rev. 19:9) God Himself is doing these things for me so that I will be fed and housed for eternity, and He is asking me to do these things for my family in the meantime. How beautiful is that?!

Sidebar: I do not believe this word is just for women, or just for married people. Peterson suggests, instead of wedding showers, we give people "graduating from college" showers or "getting my first apartment" showers regardless of whether they are married or single. I love this! I'm kind of wishing I still knew some college students so I could help them set up house. Wait! I do know a few. Awesome!

This is getting longish. But I want to share some scripture with you. I've read it many times, but in light of what I've learned from Keeping House, it is bringing tears to my eyes these days. If you are a stay-at-home parent, or you're a working parent with children, or you're a single person who just needs to be encouraged to take good care of yourself and the people who cross your threshold...please read the following scripture in the context of housekeeping. It's just beautiful.

Matthew 25:31-40 (The Message)

"When he finally arrives, blazing in beauty and all his angels with him, the Son of Man will take his place on his glorious throne. Then all the nations will be arranged before him and he will sort the people out, much as a shepherd sorts out sheep and goats, putting sheep to his right and goats to his left.

"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Enter, you who are blessed by my Father! Take what's coming to you in this kingdom. It's been ready for you since the world's foundation. And here's why: I was hungry and you fed me, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was homeless and you gave me a room, I was shivering and you gave me clothes, I was sick and you stopped to visit, I was in prison and you came to me.'

"Then those 'sheep' are going to say, 'Master, what are you talking about?...' Then the King will say, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me -- you did it to me.' "

Take good care of the people in your lives. It is, truly, the Lord's work.

Joy

2011-06-15T21:48:00.002-05:00

If you like good music and you have never heard "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road" by Lucinda Williams, then I'm thinking you need to get this album like yesterday. It's probably about ten years old, but man, it's timeless. And I didn't even know about Lucinda when it came out. I had to play catch up.

A few friends and I went to Memphis in May in...um, probably 2002? Looking at the early evening schedule, we saw that The Counting Crows were playing in a little while and some lady who had this country hick sounding name was on before them. Someone had the wonderful idea to show up for the country hick's show and get close to the stage ahead of the crowd that was sure to form for The Counting Crows.

So we show up. And here's this fair little lady in all black - jeans, shirt, and cowboy hat - with a J-45 slung low, and a voice that was anything but fair or little. In fact, car wheels on a gravel road is the perfect way to describe Lucinda Williams' voice. The sound is kinda crunchy, not "pretty," and oddly satisfying. I fell in love immediately with the depth and simplicity of her music.

She sang "Joy" as her last number. Click the link if you've never heard it; it's four minutes of gloriousness that you should most definitely experience. The whole song is basically just one chord, kind of a country stomp dirge sort of thing. "I don't want you anymore 'cause you took my joy...I'm gonna go to Slidell and look for my joy..." over and over.

And I remember there was a ~40 year old lady near us at the concert. She had long black hair, and a long flowing skirt, and she had taken her shoes off. When the song started, it was apparent that this was what she had been waiting to hear. She cheered enthusiastically, then started swaying and stepping back and forth. After a few moments, her eyes were closed and her head bowed so that her hair fell forward and moved with the music and the wind. And by the last verse she was spinning 'round and 'round, arms outstretched, eyes still closed.

"You took my joy, I want it back
You took my joy, I want it back
You took my joy, I want it back!"

Everyone around her knew that she was getting her joy back. She was taking it back. And we tried to avert our eyes, as you would from any holy thing.

You talk a lot, but you don't say very much...

2011-05-02T23:10:00.002-05:00

A continuation of my reflections on the Beth Moore conference from a few weeks ago:

This was my biggest take-away. Near the end, Mrs. Beth led a time of prayer for the various needs she had discussed. One of the topics was close personal friendships, and so she asked women to stand - if they felt comfortable doing so - if they had loneliness and were feeling the lack of a close personal friend.

Ok. There are like TONS of church groups who come to these things. And most of them wear matching t-shirts. Which are mostly pink. That is unrelated. But you get the picture, right? Large groups of similarly dressed women, roaming around this place, talking, laughing, excited. Hyped. Well, like church-lady hyped. Further...most of them are white, 20s to 50s, probably middle class. And they know Jesus. So they have one big thing in common, as well as lots of other little (but still pretty significant) things in common.

And when Mrs. Beth asked if anyone wanted prayer regarding loneliness...a solid 60% of the women stood. I was not so much surprised as heartbroken. Right then and there, all of the air went from my lungs and I cried for the brokenness in that room (arena). I wanted to just grab one of my standing sisters, grab her and lay my hands on her so as to somehow impart some strength of heart. I have known that loneliness, that chill and trembling, and not too long ago either.

So then I realized...if this is true in this place, that 60% of these women are lonely, then it probably holds true for the people I see on a daily basis. It steamrolled me.

Who in my life is living this quietly lonely life, and trying to cover it with clothes and laughter and lots of words?

Who is desperate for someone to know, yet horrified that they would be found out?

Since then I have tried to be more aware of people, more open to interruption and inconvenience. Or, just...more open. And I've been praying courage for my sisters, that they would risk it. That they would reach, that they would reveal even though it's terrifying. Part of the fear, I know, comes from being hurt before in some very real and horrible ways. I went through a really rough season of life in which I believed my "picker" was broken. Lots of users, and no true friends. Like the children of Israel in Nehemiah, I had to rebuild my walls and gates, and it was hard work.

And then others just have really high walls, and their gates are locked tight and no one is getting in. I believe this is from hurt or fear, as well, and by my guesses this is where most of those lonely women in that arena stand. They are surrounded, literally, by like-minded women, and they're still lonely. And this is especially tragic to me because no one who would be a treasured friend is going to bust down your gates. You're gonna have to open them up yourself, even if just a little at first.

So, I'm praying for courage. For all of us. Because even though I have some good relationships, I can still hide. We can all hide. Be strong and courageous, my sisters, and let someone know you. Don't waste another minute.

Mrs. Beth

2011-04-23T11:15:00.002-05:00

I love her. I got my tattoo because of something she preached on. She doesn't know this, and I'm not sure what she'd think, but there it is. Forever. That's how tattoos work, alas.

So when I heard she was coming to LR again, I was really excited. She knows her stuff, but she keeps a very real and authentic perspective on what her life has become. No nonsense with this lady when it comes to Jesus, but plenty of quite hilarious nonsense otherwise.

A few disjointed reflections on the weekend:

-- "The thing that is most important at the end, is most important today." A good reminder for this young mama to keep the end goal in sight during the many (sometimes mind-numbing) days with a toddler. So much potential in Jelly Bean's little frame that I must not overlook.

-- "Endure the hard for the sake of the good." God's way of doing things transcends our way. I grab for credit and glory and recognition. He literally "despised the world." This despising does not mean that He hated the world or, even, was mildly annoyed by the world. He loves His creation. But He never has and never will do things the way we do things. As such, I must always tell myself to "lift up thine eyes" to transcend the miry strategies of control and hedging that are my natural way. And I am (with increasing frequency) trusting that He will lift me up when the time is full.

-- Boundaries. My sister wrote a wonderful post on this word, and rightly divined that it is such a weighty and misunderstood term. I appreciate and am so thankful for her authentic journey. I offer the following as a support for her comments. Kind reader, please resist the temptation to see this as a rebuttal or, even, a response to anything she wrote. We love each other and support each other. :)

1. Boundaries are good and necessary.

2. Read the book by Cloud and Townsend. Many questions can be answered by investing the time -- even with the first 3-4 chapters -- to get a good understanding of exactly what they mean.

3. "I don't like you" doesn't equal a Christlike boundary.

4. Three biblical reasons to draw boundaries:
a. I simply can't (schedule, other obligations, etc.),
b. My help doesn't help, and
c. Beyond the boundary is unauthorized danger.

Well...the babe is stirring. I think naptime is over and it's time to fix lunch. I'm praying that you all have a wonderful weekend with family and friends. Take some time to reflect on how much Jesus loves you. He went to great lengths to have a relationship with you. Will you move in closer to Him this weekend?

If I Wanted To (Repost)

2011-04-07T17:02:00.012-05:00

So I found the following post on an old blog, and since it reminded me of how things can change but still essentially stay the same, I'm sharing it here as well. I originally wrote it about six years ago, in January of 2005. I didn't know it, but I was to meet my husband in about three months. And we got married in March of 2006. God is good.

(By the way, I am now completely convinced that life is about the journey rather than the destination. But we would still do well to be wise and courageous.)

----

It started as a vow in some old tree house
You swore you'd never be your fathers when you aged
But you're all sitting at this bar wondering who you are
And you're becoming those at whom you once were so enraged

And a prison bar don't have to be too strong you know
It's how many there are side by side that keep you in the cell
The camera dollies out from where you're lying in your bunk
But the camera's in the prison yard as well

If you wanted to, if you wanted to
If you wanted to, you tell yourself
You could have - Is it true?
Did you want to?

-From "If I Wanted To" by Don Chaffer

The practical end of Waterdeep has been cause for a fair amount of sadness and bewilderment for me. What do you do when your favorite band quits making new music? Of course there will be solo projects, which I know will be amazing. But when I listen to the wonderful creation that is Live at the New Earth, it is bittersweet to realize there will never be another chance to witness their collaboration.

But I won't go on and on about that.

Just to say...it was Don Chaffer and Lori Chaffer's writing that has influenced me just as much - no, more than any other artist to date - to write the way I do. To be brave enough to write about real life, with all of its jagged edges and misplaced puzzle pieces, is something I strive for in every song.

Am I being honest?

This seems like a pretty basic thing at first. It seems like lying would be the thing you'd have to do on purpose. But how many decisions have I, or any of us, made from selfish motives we didn't fully realize until afterwards? Surely the heart is deceitful above all things.

Am I being honest? Are these words that I'm writing actually what I believe, or did I select them because it's what is expected of me or because I read them somewhere or because they rhyme? Is this the point I really, down to the bottom of my soul, want to make?

Because some days are great days. Clear and simple and pure...and the shimmering, crystalline happiness that is produced is really true to form. And other days are not so great, full of clouds and crowds and bad smells. And maybe even catastrophe. On these days I feel like I'm clinging like a wet spider to the Rock while the tormented sea rages around and over and onto me. I am not overcome, but I am battered, and that's what I write.

I'm reading Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer right now. He writes about climbing Mt. Everest with an expedition of about 15 people. Right after he descended from the Summit (which took him over a month to reach, by the way), the mountain was struck by a terrible blizzard. Several of his teammates were caught totally off-guard and a few of them even died. He originally joined the expedition to write an article for Outside magazine, but after the tragedy he wrote the book as well as a sort of self-induced therapy. So, I recommend. But that's enough background.

Last night I read about when he finally reached the Summit and was standing quite literally on the top of the world. Over 29,000 feet above sea level. He said that he had been climbing for such a long time that when he crested the final incline and saw nowhere else to climb, he was confused and disoriented. It was only after a couple moments that it sank in that he had in fact reached the highest point on the planet. And then, get this -- his very next thought was, "I'm halfway through." Some of his teammates spent over an hour at the top, snapping pictures and congratulating each other and crying. And using valuable oxygen and physical energy. One lady even required a sherpa to haul a satellite fax machine to the top so she could send faxes to her loved ones...! Krakauer sat there for five minutes, erected a flag his wife had sewn for him, and then started climbing back down.

When I read that, at first I was like, Come on, guy, give yourself a freaking break. Enjoy the moment for once. But then I realized that the persistence and realism that had to that point aided his successful ascent was also the stuff that got him back down the mountain in one piece. As a skilled climber, he knew this...and he knew that the real cause for celebration would be to return home to his wife and children alive and healthy.

I think I need more of that climber's instinct. I need to keep my eyes on the goal - the real goal - at all times, and anything that doesn't assist me in reaching that goal...well, like a long-time friend says, "Sorry 'bout cha!"

I know my ultimate goal -- eternity with my Lord, and the hope of hearing with these ears His sweet voice saying, "Well done. Have some wine!" Or something related to that. It's the more specific goals that allude me. It's like, I know what I should be doing, but sometimes I don't know what I should be doing.

Or maybe I do know, on some level, my specific goal. I just can't admit it. A good friend (and the best guitarist I've ever had occasion to play with, actually) confessed to me once that he was more afraid of success than he was of failure. Even now his words challenge me. Because what if I do go for it, and experience some success, and then I blow it? The greater the success, the greater the potential failure.

A misstep on Everest is so different from a misstep on Pinnacle.

But no climber can climb Everest their first time out.

Several of my recent posts have discussed a certain restlessness I've felt recently. At first I thought it had to do with the holidays, or with a tendency to lose focus. But I am now willing to say that what I'm experiencing is more than seasonal discontent. It's lasted too long and it is accompanied by such compelling anticipation. I am now believing that there is a new, higher mountain for me to conquer. May I prove to be a wise climber, courageous and tenacious.

Hi, I'm Rachel and I'm a control freak...

2011-04-01T12:14:00.004-05:00

Number one -- it is entirely possible for someone to be laid back and easy going and STILL be a control freak. When I was in the past confronted by my own controlling tendencies, I would tell myself, I'm not controlling. I'm too chilled out to be controlling. Wrong! Wrong-a-bong-a-bing-bong!! So what happened that I now see myself more rightly? Well, I don't really want to go into it. Broad brushstrokes...something I've wanted for a long time came along, and it seemed perfect at first, but the more I learned the LESS perfect it seemed. But I was so focused on THE END GOAL and doing/saying/praying the exact right thing to achieve my GOAL that anything else didn't matter. Several weeks and a couple of pretty enlightening conversations with my husband/champion-of-my-soul later...I was willing to just let it go.

And since I let it go, clarity. The clarity and peace of a bright, sunny day. And the one thing I know is that when this thing I've wanted for so long actually does happen (and it will...He's been telling me for over 15 years that it will happen someday)...it's not going to be because of anything I did. The glory belongs to God, and Him only. And by His grace, I will stop trying to elbow my way in.

You Hold My World
By Israel Houghton
Take my heart -- Lord, will You take my heart
As I surrender to Your will
I confess You are my righteousness
And 'til You move me, I'll be still
And know that You are God

You hold my world in Your hands
You hold my world in Your hands
And I am amazed at Your love
I am amazed that You love me
...I'm not afraid!
My world is safe in Your hands,
In Your hands

Take my life -- Lord, will You take my life?
You are the reason that I live
I believe You have forgiven me
And by Your grace I will forgive
And know that You are God

You hold my world in Your hands
You hold my world in Your hands
And I am amazed at Your love
I am amazed that You love me
...I'm not afraid!
My world is safe in Your hands
In Your hands!

One

2011-02-23T07:19:00.008-06:00

One year. I knew my life would change, and I wanted the change, but I had no way of knowing how it would change. And while I can't say that I have loved every minute of it...I have loved every minute of it. The other mommies and daddies reading this probably understand the sensical nonsense of that last sentence. Being a mom is the absolute hardest thing I have ever done (and I am now seeing glimmers of our sweet Jelly Bean's toddler self, so I don't think it's getting easier any time soon)...but oh, it's just the most fabulous thing.

So without further ado, I shall offer a retelling of Ava Denise Pinto's entrance into our world.

On Monday morning, 2/22, I went to an appointment at my OB's office. I was three days past my due date and as big as a house. (At least a single-wide, people. I had some serious water weight. And Taco Bell weight. But anyway...) By some miracle I was still able to pee into a cup (sorry if TMI) and my urine specimen had protein in it. This coupled with my high blood pressure and blurry vision indicated to my OB (Dr. Sellers - love him!) that I had preeclampsia. This is a potentially dangerous situation, and he was noticably concerned. He told me that I needed to check into the hospital that night to be observed, and then they would induce labor the next day, Tuesday 2/23. My sister, Holly, was at the appointment with me which was a really good thing b/c I proceeded to bawl my eyes out from disappointment that I could not have natural childbirth. Um. No comments from the peanut gallery. It's really what I wanted, but it didn't work out, so maybe next time.

But very soon my disappointment was overshadowed by excitement upon the realization that I would get to meet my sweet girl in just one day! Dr. Sellers sent me home to "rest," which is like telling a child to rest on Christmas Eve times a thousand. But given the fact that I was as huge as a trailer, I couldn't get around very well anyway, so I basically laid on the couch while my mom and Nana got my hospital bag together. Jeff got home from work a little early, and we were at the hospital by 7pm. I got an IV (ouch! According to my husband the RN, the nurse was terrible at it), a sleeping pill, and something to help me dilate...and then I was off to sleep.

I woke up at 6am on 2/23, and at 7am received my first dose of Pitocin. No pain meds at this point because I just wanted to see how it would go. My thinking was, I've never experienced this type of pain before, so let's just see what happens and I can get meds at any point along the way. And really, it wasn't too bad until Doc came in at 1pm and broke my water. And then, oh baby! Pain level went from a 2-3 to a 8-9 in the matter of a few minutes. Actual natural childbirth is progressive, so that (I hear from my amazing sister who has delivered three babies naturally) you can stay on top of the pain mentally. But with that sudden jump-up in pain level, I was having a hard time holding on mentally and emotionally. I wasn't screaming or crying or any other stuff that happens in the movies...but I could tell that something was "off". Little did I know... (I should say here that my mom and Jeff were both in the room with me this entire time, and they did a fabulous job of maintaining a peaceful and supportive environment so I could focus on my labor.)

Around 3pm I asked my Mom to go get the nurse to check my progress. I told myself that if I was beyond 5cm, I would continue laboring without meds. But if I was less than 5cm, I would probably get meds. I didn't share this with anyone else at that point. So the nurse checked my progress. She said, "I think you're probably about a three. But look at this." And she showed me her surgical glove. Meconium. Lots of it. I didn't really know what I was looking at, so she helped me out. She said, "I don't think that was a head that I just felt. I think it was a booty." Oh, WOW. A wave of fright washed over me. I laid my head back against the bed, started crying, and said, "C-section."

"What did you say?" asked Jeff.

"Nothing." I was in pain, and I started to get really scared right then. But I had felt the Holy Spirit with me throughout the entire process, ever since the appointment the day before. And especially during these moments, as I lay there having all of those emotions He was saying to my spirit, "I am with you. Don't be afraid. Be brave. I am with you." I'm not sure what your beliefs are about stuff like this, but His presence and comfort were as real as what I was receiving from Jeff or my mom.

Our nurse brought the charge nurse in and they did an ultrasound to confirm that Ava was frank breech. I asked them for an epidural, and I swear my mom and Jeff let out a HUGE sigh of relief when I said that word. I know it was difficult for them to stand by and watch me go through that much pain and not be able to do anything about it. Less than 20 minutes later, we were inserting the epidural (which was a pain unique unto itself, let me tell ya) and I eventually felt better. Dr. Sellers came at 4pm to do an ultrasound, confirmed that Ava was breech, and told me that we needed to do a C-section. Some more fright at this point, because I had never been to surgery before, and my sweet doctor offered to pray with me. I accepted, and then when he and the nurses left the room - and it was just me, Jeff, and my mom - I just let it all out. I cried and cried and then cried some more. I don't think I have ever in my life cried so hard. What was I feeling? Um, pretty much everything. Sad, scared, happy, excited, and just overwhelmed that I would see my girl in just a couple of hours.

We were scheduled to go into surgery at 5:30pm. I don't remember much of what happened in the next couple hours. I know we were delayed until 6pm, but I was so tired and emotionally exhausted that I may have slept or just spaced out.

Then it was time, and they wheeled me into surgery. Ok, operating rooms look like what I would imagine a panic room to look like. Not the most comfortable place, number one. And number two, there are about 15 people in there, all with a different and I'm sure very good reason...but still, it was like, "Oh hi everyone. I'm just huge and naked and about to experience the single greatest moment of my life. Don't mind me." And if I hadn't noticed by then (which I certainly had), I saw it now that dignity is a casualty of motherhood.

So in the last 48 hours I had experienced several surprises:: preeclampsia, painful IV, painful labor, breech baby, painful epidural. So when Dr. Sellers told me, "I'm about to pinch you and if you feel it at all, you should tell me," and then I felt it...I mean, really felt it...it just fits, right? Except not really. They dosed my epidural three more times over the next fifteen minutes, with no change. At least not to my midsection. My arms and legs were completely numb and useless, but I could still feel the pinching on my belly. So then they told me that they needed to do a spinal block, right then and there. Perhaps at this point I had about three crumbs of dignity left...and when my nurse and three nursing students had to lift my paralyzed (and huge, have I mentioned that?) body off of the operating table for the spinal tap insertion, that was it. Zero dignity. I'm telling this in a humorous way right now, but in that moment I thought, "Ok, just check out so you won't go berserk." And so I just went numb, emotionally and mentally. The spinal tap was inserted - with no pain this time - and it worked.

When I was finally laying back down on the table, and I couldn't feel the pinching, it was apparent that I was really and actually about to meet my little girl. Finally. Dr. Sellers explained what he was about to do, and what I may feel, and that he would have to hand Ava to the NICU nurses as soon as she was delivered to clean out her airways. Another of my labor desires was compromised here, in that I couldn't be the first to hold my baby.

I didn't feel the cutting, but I did feel some movement...kind of like someone was pulling on my legs, and then pressing down really hard on my chest. Then she was out, and everyone was saying how big she was, and I could see her little legs and hear her little cries. Tears of joy, and "Thank You, Jesus," over and over. She was with the NICU nurses, crying like a champ, and I didn't want her to think she was alone. I told Jeff to go stand next to the warming table and talk to her. He didn't miss a beat. Just walked over there, let her wrap her little fingers around his thumb, and said over and over, "Ava, this is your daddy. I'm right here with you. Everything is going to be okay. Ava, this is your daddy. I'm right here with you. Everything is going to be okay..." Definitely one of the most special moments of the day.

And then, finally. My moment. Our moment, me and her. They brought her to me, and suddenly I was a mama. Certainly when I was pregnant, I was a mama. And as we continue on this path, I will know more of what that means. But that moment was so pivotal, so life-changing. I thought (and maybe said), "Oh wow, this changes everything."

I have never worshipped like I worshipped in those moments after Ava was born. My God. My God gave us this exquisite miniature of His glory. I told her, "I'm your mama, and I will always be here for you no matter what." She was so beautiful; I just couldn't stop looking at her.

And you know what? I still can't. Ava Denise, we love you more than life itself. And we love being your parents. You are so fun and adventurous and intelligent. You have brought so much joy to our life, and we thank God for you every day. Happy birthday, Jelly Bean!

Baby Weight

2011-02-11T10:14:00.003-06:00

Ok, so I pretty much decided last month that I can't call it "baby weight" anymore. My daughter is almost a year old after all. Not sure where that line is exactly for me (and it is a purely personal decision), but once the new year rolled around, my patience with my Mom Body reached critical mass. No pun intended.

I think a lot of mommies can identify with me on this. Before pregnancy, I had a pretty healthy self image. Sure, there were some days where I felt bloated or frumpy, but most of the time I was comfortable and confident with my body. When I would hear pregnant ladies complain about their bodies and the amount of weight they were gaining, I was usually the first to remind them that "It's for the baby." Then, I was pregnant. And I was the one whose waistline DIS-AP-PEARED and who saw some mind-boggling numbers on the scale at the doctor's office. And you know, it still helped to hear people say I was beautiful and glowing and that the weight gain was for the baby. But let me be honest -- all of that weight was not for the baby. A lot of it was due to the extra burrito from Taco Bell or the mozzarella sticks from Sonic or the real Coca-Cola I had about every other day during my third trimester. And I promised my future self that I would lose all the weight relatively easily after our girl was born. After all, I would be breastfeeding which supposedly burns like 100,000 extra calories a day or something.

And you know what? I did lose a lot of the weight. Most of it. But weaning time came and went with little fanfare (thanks to a very laid-back and adaptive baby girl), and I realized that I still had more than a few pounds to lose. It wasn't about the number. I probably couldn't tell you right now what I weigh. For me it was about how I looked, and how I felt about how I looked. On one of my harder PPD days, I told a friend, "I just don't feel alluring anymore." But that day was like in November or something. I just kinda sat there for awhile, literally and figuratively.

I learned in one of my grad classes that a depressed person actually has to come out of the pit a little before she'll make any lasting changes. Someone who is truly at rock bottom cannot - by virtue of being at their very lowest point - pull themselves out. There has to be some sort of inciting event, a bounce if you will. (I love finding grace in the most unexpected places, don't you?) My grace happened on or around January 1st. I can't remember exactly when, but it was like the curtains on the windows of my mind were opened and I saw the cobwebs and dust and dank for the first time. I told myself, "2010 was baby year, and 2011 will be recovery year." I gave myself two goals: read the Bible all the way through, and get my body back. The Bible reading I felt would give some structure to getting some Light and Truth into my tired soul, and it has. And getting my body back has been a healing event as well, empowering and enlightening.

When I was pregnant and a brand new mommy, I plunged way into that identity. Listen, I wanted it so badly, and when it happened I was more thrilled than any blog post can describe. But by the time JB was drinking bottles and crawling around, and we had found a workable rhythm at home, I actually had a little time to look at myself in the mirror. And whoa...in the words of Fred Willard, wha' happened?!? So, you know what? I am not just a mommy. I'll tell ya, I am primarily a mommy and all you have to do is try to mess with my baby or family if you need to be convinced. It is the biggest part of me now, but it's still just a part. I'm also a wife, and a friend, and a sister, and a professional. And it's time for the outside "me" to reflect the inside "me" again.

So. How am I doing it? I devised (ok, more like stumbled upon...it's how I find all my good ideas to be honest) a two-step approach:

1) Start with The Master Cleanse (shout out to Carmen and Andrea here). Follow the link for more information. I did three days of Ease-In, five days of the Cleanse, and three days of Ease-Out.

a. Pros: It was like hitting the reset button on my appetite. It is essentially a fast, and I made it a spiritual as well as physical exercise. I would get hungry at mealtimes - no big surprise there. But I would also get hungry if I smelled food, or if I saw a food commercial on TV, or if I drove past a food billboard. My stomach was responding to my eyes seeing the pictures of yummy food. I wasn't any hungrier 30 seconds after seeing the advertisement than before, but my body wanted me to think I was. I think I read this in one of Richard Foster's books, but the stomach really does act like a spoiled child sometimes.

b. Cons: Bathroom time. Please reference the website.

2) Super Top Secret Mysterious Weight Loss Plan: reduce intake of energy, increase output of energy. Diet and exercise, people. I am using the LoseIt! app on my iPhone, which is also available on the good ol' interweb. It tracks calories and other nutrition info of the food I eat, and calories burned for the exercises I do (even housework is included in their available exercises, and sexual activity...can I get a what, what?!). But my favorite part of the app is that it asked for my goal weight, and how much weight I want to lose each week (0.5 lb, 1 lb, 1.5 lb, 2 lb)...and then it calculated my net daily calories based on that. Too cool!

But you know, the main thing is that whatever plan you choose, you stick with it. It's not magic. But it has been fun, finding new recipes (allrecipes.com and epicurious.com both have lots of healthy recipes) and -- the best part -- RESULTS. Can I get an amen on that one?! I was wearing my biggest pair of jeans the other day, the ones I wore during my first trimester, and my Mom said, "Wow, Rachel, those pants are about to fall off you! You're gonna have to get some new ones soon." I could have done the Rocky shadow-boxing dance. "Getting strong now...won't be long nooowwww!" I was so pumped.

And that, my friends, is exactly the kind of empowerment this mommy/wife/grad student/sister/friend/soon-to-be-professional needs.

Food 2011

2011-01-07T10:05:00.002-06:00

I'll just say it. Food is a big part of my life. I love the comfort of it -- how a homecooked meal (preferably prepared by one's mother) sits warm in your belly and your heart. And I love the adventure of it -- trying new tastes and techniques, and learning. Not to the extreme of those guys on cable TV who eat bugs and intestines and such, but you know, basically just eating more non-American foods. And I LOVE what sharing a meal with someone does for the friendship. It is profound, almost spiritual, the conversations I have had with folks over a simple meal prepared with care.

So I'm going to add FOOD as a regular subject to this here blog. I'll post pictures and recipes and stories, and I'd love to read/see some of yours as well.

So, any requests? Anything you'd like to see me try this year? Also, an unofficial poll...what is your ultimate comfort food?

Good Ol' WBC

2010-11-22T22:59:00.005-06:00

I had a special treat today - a visit with my long lost friend, Maggs, and her husband Brent. We met at my sister Holly's house, adored each other's children, and the three of us recalled stories of yesteryear. We all went to college together at dear old Williams Baptist College. In the words of Charles Dickens, it was the best of times and it was the worst of times.

It was the best because it was this isolated little place, full of fabulous people, and fabulous faculty who really cared about students. It's difficult to describe, but you know what? If you haven't been a student at Williams, I guess there's no way to really explain to you why attending college with only 500 other students in the entire school, which happens to sit in the middle of a bean field, which happens to be between two sleepy little towns...hard to make you understand why that's so great. But it's not the bean field or the towns that make it great, although they are a part of the flavor for sure. And it's not just the people, necessarily, because there are great people everywhere. Geez, I'm going in circles. How about this? The whole was more than the sum of its parts. There. :)

And it was the worst because, basically, life just happens. I battled depression off and on. And my parents' marriage ended during my senior year. I had a senior recital to prepare for, and was trying to make plans for after graduation, so I was basically just keeping it together there at the end. I didn't really deal with that whole thing until a couple years after college, so in a sense, it didn't really affect my life at WBC. Or I should say...the geographic distance helped to keep the home reality separate from the school reality.

We talked about that a little today. The sad stuff, it seems so long ago. But when we talked about the good stuff - the funny stories - I laughed and remembered like it was yesterday. That's a good thing, I think. Stories about snow days...when classes would be cancelled, and it seemed like practically everyone spent practically the entire day outside making snowmen and getting in snow ball fights. And stories about dorm antics...things involving toilet paper, and highlighters, and Ramen noodles, and wearing various items of clothing for purposes they were not intended for.

But upon further reflection, my favorite stories really capture the essence of who were were at the time. Listening to Maggie sing one of her hilarious original songs in chapel. (By the way, you should be so lucky.) Or when a group of us had t-shirts made that said "Williams Pickleball", and wore them all on the same day, and convinced a handful of people that there actually was a pickleball team and they could sign up. And they wanted to, some of them. In fact, the jig was up when they really wanted to sign up and wouldn't drop it and so I finally had to tell them, sorry, it was a joke. Or the day that there was a crazy hat competition in the cafeteria during supper, and I convinced Maggie to climb up on my shoulders and be my "crazy hat." And we won. Goofy stuff. Ridiculous, most of it. And recalling these stories today...at first I felt the sharp pangs of embarrassment.

But driving home from that wonderfully sweet and too-short visit, I asked myself, "What would 2010 Rachel think of 1998 Rachel and her friends, if I encountered them today?" And folks, I gotta tell ya...

I would think you were fabulous! I would see what a rare treasure you had in being so gloriously UN-self-conscious. So fabulously and boldly yourself. Or at least, yourself-as-far-as-you-could-figure-at-the-time. Because isn't that all that we ever are? We are ourselves, to the best of our ability and with the data we have at the time. Because I still had some major questions about myself and my faith that I needed to ask. I found some answers for some of them, and the others - well, I'm just more comfortable with them now. And in the process, I got to know myself and my God in a new and better way. But back then, in 1998, I had 1998 data. And grace. Tons of grace.

Today I have 2010 data, and so I act like 2010. I'm a wife, a mama, a home owner. I am what 1998 Rachel viewed with more than a little ambivalence. I am...deep breath...a GROWN UP. Yikes. Seeing grown ups from this perspective (as one) makes it easier to be one. I know now that we're not all lame, or bitter, or half-dead. (When I was younger, I was privileged to be surrounded by lots of wonderful grown ups...but I was also afraid of becoming sour, or boring, like some of the others I knew.)

And being a grown up, thinking about myself in college...I can only pray that someday my sweet little girl will be given the opportunity to have such wonderful and like-minded friends who allow her to be herself, to the best of her ability and with the data she has at the time. If she does, then she'll be alright.

So here's your question...what would you want to tell yourself "back then"?

Quick Update

2010-10-02T23:30:00.004-05:00

Wow, it's already October! September flew by and I'm sorry to say I didn't post once on this here blog. I'm taking more hours in grad school this semester than any other semester previous, and Jelly Bean decided to start crawling three weeks ago (yes, at six months old!) and she is no longer content to sit in her baby chair while I wax philosophical on things like blogs. She's got places to GO, see?!

Speaking of the light of our lives, we took some super cute pictures of her yesterday and I'll try to post a few soon.

Also, my birthday is next Friday. I'm definitely more tired and flabby than I was last year, but you know...it's amazing what having a baby will do to one's priorities. I mean, I'm working on the flabby thing, and I sleep when possible -- but I'm just trying to embrace this crazy season. It seems that JB does some brand-new thing every single day, and I don't want to miss it.

You Will Still Be Alone (And Other Thoughts On Marriage)

2010-08-31T18:16:00.006-05:00

There are some things that married people do not tell single people. Some of those things should not be told, and you know it as soon as you are told one of them. Ooo, thanks for that disgusting detail of your life. I need to make a call now, to my THERAPIST.

But some things are not gross or inappropriate or sicky-sweet-I-want-to-stick-a-fork-in-your-puppy-dog-eyes. I guess they fall into that special category of authenticity (SUCH an overused word for such an important gift) that few people achieve with someone whom, well, they're not married to. But since I really want you to know, and I think maybe no one has told you b/c they're basically just afraid to open up, I'm gonna go ahead and share something with you.

When you marry the love of your life, your soulmate, the one you waited for with baited breath, The One From the LORD Just For You (or however you want to frame it)...you will still, essentially, be alone.

Okay. Take a deep breath.

You may as well know this now. Some of you may feel so alone now in singleness that you hope for some respite, some greener grass just over the hill, as a way of dealing with the present moment. And it is definitely true that a healthy and blessed marriage does offer its participants the simple joys of comraderie and conversation and intimacy.

But please search your heart right now. Because when two people live together, it happens sometimes that even legitimate needs (physical, emotional, spiritual, whatever) cannot be met by the other person. You will be tempted to believe that your partner won't help you - that if they really wanted to, they could. You will be saner and more peaceful if you believe that for whatever reason on this particular day, they just can't.

Another dynamic that happens often is that of victim/rescuer or child/parent. Let me just go ahead and tell you that every married couple at some point(s) has to figure out what they're going to do about the child/parent thing. One partner needs some "help" (either perceived or directly asked for), which seems innocent enough...so the other partner gives the "help", and ends up acting or sounding very maternal/paternal in the process. This is a complex issue, isn't it? Because married folks are supposed to help each other - we're supposed to care, listen, empathize. But hear me carefully now - we are not meant to solve each other's problems, rescue each other from the consequences of our behavior, or be amateur therapists for each other. And why? Um, because you are no longer a child!

You have to see yourself and your partner as two equals - two grown adults who are each capable of taking care of their own basic needs. Any breakdown here can cause a laundry list of problems in your relationship.

But still, a legitimate need is not being met. And you find yourself alone with something you would rather not face alone. What do you do with this?

You have some options:

1.) Call your mama and complain. He will love this.

2.) Call anyone and complain. He will be elated.

3.) Flee, ignore, or deny the aloneness. Ever known someone with revolving door relationship syndrome? I have a hunch about them.

I will now confess that I have done all of the following:

1.) Turning up the pressure. Maybe he doesn't understand how important this is.

2.) Turning up the volume. Maybe he can't hear me.

3.) Pouting, glowering, and other passive-aggressive behaviors which El Jefe either does not notice or is smart enough not to acknowledge.

4.) Increasingly, I give the brutha a break, pull up my big girl britches, and get on with life. Because I remember how many times he has done exactly the same thing for me. Except he doesn't wear girl britches.

AND...I am more and more often brave enough to face the aloneness. The Bible tells me that I am never alone; I believe this. But you know what? Sometimes, I am alone. I feel like the Psalmist who sings, "Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God...My soul is downcast within me." It is a mystery that I believe originates in the brokenness of my soul and my family and your family and our humanity. But it is not, it can not...and it will not be the end of the story.

Take heart, my friends. You may still feel alone at times, but you are never without your Source.

-----

DISCLAIMER: Lest any critical minds be tempted to believe that I am unhappy in my marriage or that my husband does not sacrifice himself on a daily basis for me and our little family, please allow me to assure you that I married one of the most unconditionally giving and forgiving men on the planet. Certainly the best one I know. I love him, and he loves me, and Jesus loves us - and a cord of three strands is not easily broken.

Freezer Meal #2 -- Black Bean Soup

2010-08-12T08:49:00.002-05:00

My fellow Little Rock residents may have experienced the fabulous restaurant that is (was?) Vermillion Water Grille. And if you were very fortunate, you may also have experienced their fabulous black bean soup. I have tried a few recipes trying to find just the right taste, and finally, with Dave Lieberman's recipe - I found it! (The only discernable difference between Dave's recipe and Vermillion's recipe is that Vermillion mashes or blends their soup to an almost smooth consistency, probably using an immersion blender, which you could definitely do if you so desire right before serving.)

Inés and I made just one recipe last weekend, which is probably enough to serve 6-8 people. We split it. As far as freezer directions, we stopped right after we added the cilantro, allowed it to cool for about 30 minutes, and then put it in our freezer bowls. Again, not a bad idea to label anything you put in the freezer.

Defrost in the fridge for 24 hours, or on the countertop for 6-8 hours. Heat to boiling, then simmer uncovered for 15 minutes. Right before serving, squeeze in a little lime juice. Serve with whatever garnishes you desire - I just had a little fresh cilantro and some sour cream on mine, but you can also do green onions, shredded jack cheese, corn chips, etc.

Have I mentioned my love of Jiffy corn muffin mix? Or of quick breads in general? Ok, briefly -- quick breads are breads that require no kneading and usually (but not always) get their rising power from baking powder or baking soda instead of yeast. If you can make pancakes, you can make a quick bread. And don'tcha know I have a few ridiculously easy recipes for these as well? El Jefe loves homemade bread, but since I rarely have the hours required to make yeast bread, this is an excellent alternative for us. Anyway...here's the cornbread I served with the soup:

Jiffy Cheddar Green Chile Cornbread

1 box Jiffy corn muffin mix
1 egg
1/3 c milk
1/4 tsp black pepper
2 oz shredded cheddar
Half of 1 (7oz) can diced green chiles, mostly drained

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. If you have an 8" round cast iron skillet, or even a cake pan, grease it with a little shortening or oil by applying with a paper towel. This will also make about six muffins; grease the muffin cups in the same manner.

Mix together the Jiffy mix, egg, milk, and pepper JUST until combined. It will be lumpy. This is totally okay and even desired. Dump in your cheddar and green chiles and stir just until mixed in; 5-10 stirs TOPS.

Dump the batter into your skillet or muffin cups. Muffins will take about 15 minutes, and the skillet will take about 20.

I will post some more quick bread recipes soon.

Freezer Meal #1

2010-08-11T10:33:00.002-05:00

Mi hermana, Inés McBryde, and I have been cooking together on the weekends when both of our schedules allow it. We will make stuff that we can stash in the fridge or freezer for the coming week. As you can imagine, this cuts down on the last minute trips to the grocery store and slaving in the kitchen in the evenings when we'd rather be relaxing with our families. This past Saturday we cooked three meals and two loaves of homemade bread in four hours! We were pretty proud of ourselves considering it was only our second attempt.

As I imagine this freezer meal thing would be an attractive concept to my homegirls, I will start sharing tips and tricks and recipes as I have the time. The first recipe I want to share with you is for a ridiculously easy, and oh-so-good ham potato bake. I found a recipe on allrecipes.com that was close to what I wanted, and then I gussied it up a little. So, without further ado...

Ham Potato Bake

Ingredients:
2 (32oz) bags Potatoes O'Brien, frozen (cubed potatoes w/onions and peppers)
2 lb ham, diced or cubed (you could certainly use turkey or chicken here)
1 (16oz) bag frozen green beans (or broccoli, or peas)
3 cans cream soup (whatever you have on hand - we used 2 cans of cream of potato and 1 can of cream of celery)
1 (16oz) container sour cream
4 c shredded cheese (cheddar or colby is probably best - but again, use whatever. This isn't rocket surgery.)
1 c shredded parmesan
1 tsp black pepper (probably won't need salt b/c of the cream soups)
1 c milk (more or less)

Find the most gigantic mixing bowl you have (like 6qt to 8qt). Then grease your cooking dishes. Here are the possible combinations of cooking dishes:

- Two 9x13s
- One 9x13 and two 9x9s
- Four 9x9s

Dump all of the ingredients, except the milk, into your gigantic (seriously, it needs to be BIG) mixing bowl, and stir to combine. Add milk as you go if you feel like it is needed. The mixture needs to have a slightly thicker consistency than what you will want the finished product to have.Divide the mixture among your cooking dishes. To freeze, cover tightly with two layers of plastic wrap and one layer of heavy duty foil. It's probably not a bad idea to use a Sharpie to write the contents and preparation date on top, either. Then just stash it in your freezer.

To defrost, put in the fridge for 24 hours. Or set out on the countertop for 4-6 hours.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Remove the plastic wrap and re-cover with the foil. Cook 30 mins covered, and then 10-15 mins uncovered.

Cost per serving :: approximately $1

MODIFICATIONS:
-- To make this healthier, use chicken instead of ham, and all of the low fat/low sodium options you can find in the dairy products; and add another 16oz bag of frozen veggies.

-- This is a huge recipe. You can halve it and it'll just make one 9x13 or two 9x9s. But you know, even if you're cooking by yourself - if you have the room in your freezer, go ahead and make the full recipe. It'll keep for at least a couple months, and you certainly don't have to keep it all for yourself. You can help out a family in need by taking a frozen meal to them.

These Hands

2010-08-06T22:50:00.004-05:00

I remember as a child laying with my head on my mother's lap and staring at her hands. They were much bigger than mine, and the skin was different. And they were soft when she rubbed my face and combed her fingers through my hair. I loved those nurturing times, and when I would stare at her hands, my thoughts would turn to wondering how many dishes she had washed and how many pairs of socks she had folded...in her entire life. In her entire, long life. A million? A million billion??

For a little dose of perspective, my mother was younger at that time - when she had four daughters in elementary school - than I am now with my first baby girl. To me her hands symbolized nurturance and kindness. And adult-ness. Adults can't be kids anymore. They have to have their act together and know about the world and have answers for kids' questions, etc.

Three days ago I was driving and Jelly Bean was in her carseat. I looked back to check on her during a stoplight, and she was sitting there with both of her hands raised, palms up, and she had the most contemplative look on her tiny face. Most people would say that she was probably thinking, What are these things? or How long have I had these and didn't know it? And she probably was. But you didn't see that facial expression. It seemed more like, What can I do with these? The potential! I wonder if they'll get bigger, or stronger. I wonder if someday I'll be able to do everything Mama does. After all, that's the stuff I wondered when I was a kid - but, I know, that's me and not her.

Before I started writing this blog post, I was nursing JB. Sometimes she does this thing while she's nursing where she quietly lays her little hand on her cheekbone, or over her eyes. Her little hand, that is barely big enough yet to completely cover her temple. And sometimes when she lays her hand there, it's more than I can bear, and I will lay my hand over hers and pray with all of my wrenching heart that I can protect her and guide her and love her the way she needs.

So, I am conflicted. Half of the time I want to be her adventurous/unpredictable Tour Guide For Life, a la Willy Wonka...and the other half of the time I want to hold her close to my chest and just stay home and scream out the front door, "You can all just stay away! Nobody here has anything for you, and definitely nobody will ever be interested in leaving to adventure into the broken world in which you operate and which you continue to make worse, by the way!" Okay, that's a lot to scream. And the sweet, retired ladies who live across the street are probably the only ones who would hear me and I don't think they're making anything worse. They mostly just keep their lawns immaculate and make small talk with me and each other during the long summer evenings. So, anyway...

I do realize that, if we do our job, JB will actually someday leave for her big adventure and we will not be invited. I will not be invited. And then probably years later...on some regular old day she will look down, as I have, during an unprotected moment and realize, These hands look just like my mother's.

I Know The Plans

2010-08-05T23:03:00.003-05:00

Written by Lori Chaffer

You talk of hating war
But where's your own peacetime?
You don't love anymore
All my children
You linger in your mind, "Everyone's so unkind"
But you forget about the mines you laid on your land

I know the plans I have for you
I know the things that I want for you to do
I know the plans I have for you
And it hurts sometimes to see you blind

You read up on the lies
And keep them in motion
So clever the disguise of devotion
You say that there's no time
But there you stand joking
But you forgot that I'm the one
Who weighs the words you've spoken

I know the plans I have for you
I know the things that I want for you to do
I know the plans I have for you
And it hurts sometimes to see you cry

---------------------

Words from the heart of a prophet, I believe. May my fellow believers be encouraged by these lyrics to remember your responsibility to others, and your responsibility for the words you speak. For those words betray what you are so desperately trying to hide in your (black) heart. "So clever the disguise of devotion", indeed.

ELEVATE, my friends, beyond the petty concerns of temporary drama. There is a bigger story here, and you're missing it! Do you think you were made for more? Then, guess what? You were!

Get desperate. Get on your face in front of your Master.

There's not enough time!

Get off the sidelines today!

Upside the Head

2010-06-26T17:56:00.002-05:00

I love it when two areas of personal interest intersect. It's kind of like discovering a mutual friend with someone you really enjoy.

Last evening I was reading my group therapy text and, of all things, discovered an intersection between group therapy dynamics (area of interest #1) and church structure (area of interest #2). I'd like to share a quote from The Theory and Practice of Group Psychotherapy by Irvin Yalom, but first let me explain a couple of terms so that the impact of the text will be total for my kind readers.

In any group (which would include community groups, Bible study groups, etc., in addition to group therapy), there are always two things going on: content, and process. Content refers to what is said and done. But process refers to the "how" and "why" of the comments and actions. For example, if one group member is a single, young professional and another group member is a middle-aged homemaker...and the young person looks at the homemaker and says, "Parenthood is demeaning!"...the content is obviously very provocative and will probably start an argument.

But even more provocative and potentially life-changing can be the questions asked about the content, i.e. the process. Such as, "I wonder what is going on between these two individuals that he would attack her like this," or "Why did he set himself up for an attack with such a provocative statement?" These questions are referred to as process commentary.

So...here's the quote:

"Process commentary undermines arbitrary authority structure. Industrial organizational development consultants have long known that an organization's open investigation of its own structure and process leads to power equalization -- that is, a flattening of the hierarchical pyramid. Generally, individuals high on the pyramid not only are more technically informed but also possess organizational information that permits them to influence and manipulate: that is, they not only have skills that have allowed them to obtain a position of power but, once there, have such a central place in the flow of information that they are able to reinforce their position. The more rigid the authority structure of an organization, the more stringent are the precautions against open commentary about process (as in, for example, the military or the church). The individual who wishes to maintain a position of arbitrary authority is wise to inhibit the development of any rules permitting reciprocal process observation and commentary."

If any paragraph in all of literature can sum up the problems I have experienced with the church, I think this would be it. Don't let the layperson ask how we did something, or why we made this decision. And if they do ask, give them confusing, defensive, or deflective answers. Because we have to hold this thing together! Right? Isn't that the church leader's job?!

Actually, no.

As I read the Scripture, it's Jesus at the top and then the rest of us. Variously gifted, but equal. And just because someone is gifted to be a teacher or visionary (is that word even in the Scriptures?) doesn't mean they automatically make better decisions than one who is gifted to be hospitable, for example, and therefore should restrict the flow of information or the give-and-take of an equal relationship.

I think the most unfortunate thing in all of this is that less change happens. Less personal change, because we're all hedging and angling and hiding our true (black) hearts. I think Jesus said something about white-washed tombs that may apply here...

And isn't it everyone's job to love God first, and then love people? A tall order, no doubt, that none of us will perfect (I am so far from this that I can't imagine myself ever, in all of eternity, perfecting this) -- but one that gets so clouded by our natural fears and faults.

And, I am now even willing to say, our institutions.

Do Not Operate Heavy Machinery...

2010-06-13T09:06:00.004-05:00

Ok, do any of the other mommies out there wonder about yourself sometimes??

While I was pregnant with Jelly Bean, El Jefe and I discussed the benefits of cloth diapering which included financial as well as environmental concerns. We decided we'd do it, and I asked my sister - who has done this with her three children - for her advice. She directed me to this blog post, which she authored and which is fabulous. Additionally, when she was here helping us with JB a couple months ago she brought some covers and liners with her. Awesome! I thought. Diapers for free for the first few months!

Well, somewhere along the way, I lost one small piece of information. Cloth diapering consists of three pieces: the cover (furthest from baby's bum), the prefold diaper (in the middle), and a liner of some sort (closest to baby's bum, to pull moisture away). Remember, SB brought just covers and liners, and I was supposed to supply my own diapers.

I tried several times to put cloth diapers on JB, but every single time it would turn into a big, leaky mess. When people would ask how it was going, I would say, "I guess it's just not for us. I just can't get it to work. Maybe when she's older."

I just now in this moment realized -- I was only using the cover and the liner! I never inserted the actual diaper into the cloth diaper!! Oh geez...

You know...some people in this life are gifted with an ability to consider the practical details of living such as house cleaning, bill paying, and how to properly assemble a cloth diaper. Others of us are gifted in other, less tangible, ways such as writing a piano sonata or authoring a ten page paper in an afternoon, and are almost always completely eluded by practical concerns.

Nevertheless, I will not be bested by the cloth diaper! I will overcome! We are purchasing covers, liners, and (yes, even) prefold diapers in JB's current size, and we will use them with success!

Let it be written. Let it be known.

HB's Oatmeal Squares

2010-06-07T15:05:00.001-05:00

I got this recipe from my sister, HB, and made them this weekend. They are yummy! And, as El Jefe and I figured it up...they cost about 40 cents per square. (I have a very budget-conscious husband.) He eats two at a time, but one is enough for me.

If you want to offer something homemade to your family for breakfast, but don't have very much time in the morning, these are perfect. I just cut them into squares, wrapped them in plastic wrap, and stored them in the fridge. So without further ado...

Ingredients:
3 c oats (either quick-cooking or regular)
1 3/4 c buttermilk or sour milk (see below for sour milk directions)
1/2 c veg oil, coconut oil, or room-temperature butter
4 eggs
1/3 c honey, maple syrup, brown sugar, or white sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp cinnamon
2 tsp vanilla
2 c raisins (or any other dried fruit)
2 c chopped apples (or pears, or peaches...you get the idea)
1 c chopped nuts

1. In a large mixing bowl, soak the oats and buttermilk or sour milk covered on the kitchen counter overnight, or at least for a couple hours.

2. Preheat oven to 350. Add the oil, sugar, eggs, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, and vanilla to the oats mixture. Beat for 4-5 minutes, until ingredients are well incorporated. Stir in the fruit and nuts.

3. Pour into a greased 9x13 baking dish, and bake at 350 for 25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out mostly clean.

4. When completely cool, cut into 16 squares. They'll be very, very moist, so be ginger! Or be Maryann! Be whomever! Just take care not to tear them apart. They need to be refrigerated, and you can heat them up in the microwave when you're ready to eat them.

Other Options: Try whatever add-ins you think will be good in place of the fruit and nuts. HB said dried cranberries and white chocolate chips are fabulous, and I can't wait to try that variety!

Sour Milk: In a small bowl, stir together 1 3/4 c milk (less 1.5 tsp) and 1.5 tsp white vinegar. Allow it to sit on the counter for 15-20 minutes to sour. This is kind of a gross step, and you can just use regular milk if you want, but I wouldn't recommend it. There's just something about that acidity in the finished product that makes it so, so good.

I HATE Cleaning...

2010-05-17T10:27:00.003-05:00

...but then, who loves it?

Probably the main reason I avoid cleaning is that I don't believe I have enough time. It's rare that I have an entire day, or even an entire morning, to spend uninterrupted on getting my house spotless. So, I devised a cleaning calendar that spreads the workload out over a four week period.

I actually came up with this when the Hunk and I were housesitting for a year at a really nice place, which happened to be much bigger than anywhere else we had lived, and I was definitely overwhelmed by the idea of keeping that house clean! Well, now we have a cute little 3BR/1.5BA that is much more manageable. I still use this calendar, though, b/c it helps me stay on top of the cleaning duties. (Also, the Hunk is very willing to help out when I ask for quick, specific tasks.)

So here it is. I basically broke down everything into single tasks, and then arranged them on this five-day/four-week calendar so that I only have to do two or three tasks per day. And weekends off! Notice the quickhand at the bottom, and that this is for a 1.5BA house, so we only have one bathtub to clean. Also I didn't put those continuous tasks on here - namely, doing laundry and cleaning the kitchen.

I offer this in hopes that you can use it at least as a starting point if you don't already have a plan of attack for cleaning your house. Because, after all, having a plan for something like this is almost always better.

"I would never do anything to hurt you"...and other lies

2010-04-23T22:04:00.003-05:00

"I would never do anything to hurt you."

I've said it before. I think maybe I said it a couple weeks ago to Jelly Bean, our infant daughter, in one of the several outpoourings of motherly emotion I've been experiencing since she turned our lives upside down two months ago. I didn't mean to lie. Really, I didn't. But today I realized that's exactly what I had done.

You see, she had her first round of vaccinations today.

(Disclaimer: If my gentle readers happen to have views on the hot button topic of vaccination that are contrary to my own, they may be better served by inserting some other medical procedure in its place. Or at least, the point of my blog post will be better served. I have done my due diligence in research and we're getting the shots. That's not what this post is about.)

So she had her first round of vaccinations today, and just two weeks ago I told her that I would never do anything to hurt her. If she weren't still happily oblivious to much of what we call reality, she'd be one confused baby girl. As it is, she has spent 90% of the day since we got home in bed and the remaining 10% in my arms, looking into my eyes and - no other word describes it - whimpering. Thank God for baby tylenol. Seriously. Or I'd be a basket case.

And while I was holding her, looking into her eyes as she looked into mine, I realized something. I can't explain this to her in a way that she'll understand. I mean, I still tried. "Honey, I know those shots hurt really bad when you got them, and you're probably still very sore. But they are good for you, and they'll keep you from getting sick." She just stared. All she knows right now is the hurt. All she knows is that she was laid out on that hospital table, and that lady with the cold hands grabbed her leg, and did something...and after 1.5 breathless seconds (because her Mama felt it, too), she cried like she's never cried before. And then her mother, the one who had delivered her to this small room for this maltreatment, instantly scooped her up and cried with her.

Some things have happened to me, and maybe something's happened to you too, that have hurt. It hurt so bad, and happened so fast, and was so unlike anything I had ever experienced, that I was shocked into this outraged sadness. I wanted answers. I wanted to understand. And I wanted to understand so that I could see it coming next time, damn it.

Well, guess what? I saw it coming this time. It didn't make it any easier.

And when my Father scooped me up and held me close as I raged at Him about the pain, He didn't say anything. Or at least, that's how it seemed. What if He did try to explain, and I couldn't understand? He is timeless; I am bound in time. He is Creator; I am the created. He holds the universe in a delicate balance; sometimes I can't even make a good spaghetti sauce.

So. I tried to explain to my girl what had happened. She just whimpered in response, and then nuzzled her face into the crook of my arm as she fell asleep.

"O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty;
Nor do I involve myself in great matters,
Or in things too difficult for me.
Surely I have composed and quieted my soul;
Like a weaned child rests against his mother,
My soul is like a weaned child within me.
O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forever."

Psalm 131

Oh for faith, to trust Him more.

Birth Story

2010-04-10T16:23:00.000-05:00

Well, here goes nothing.

I had a relatively uneventful pregnancy until the very end. Some mild morning sickness in the first trimester slowed me down a little. But then the awesomest second trimester ever (or at least I assume, since I've only had one) followed it. I felt fabulous physically, mentally, in every way. I don't think I have ever felt more "on top of the world" in my life than I did during this time. The third trimester brought with it more fatigue and some dramatic emotions (bless my husband's heart), and some pretty remarkable swelling. I felt like a big ol' tomato, and more than one stranger in the grocery store asked about my due date and informed me that they thought I could go at any moment. Thank you. Thank you so much.

But all in all, I still felt okay - at least not out of the ordinary for a full-term pregnant woman - and I began preparing for natural childbirth. Some people (interestingly, most had never been pregnant) told me I was crazy, but I remained confident that my body was made to do this and I could manage the pain. My husband, who is a registered nurse, and my obstetrician both cautioned me to stay open to other forms of childbirth just in case something happened or I had a change of heart during labor. I agreed to this, and learned what I could about natural childbirth while keeping a caveat in my mind for the special situation.

My due date was Friday, Feb. 19, and when I went for my weekly check-up on the previous Tuesday I had not progressed at all. The doctor noticed my swelling, but my blood pressure and other tests were fine. He scheduled me for the next Monday, Feb. 22, to see my regular OB who had been on vacation. If I had not progressed by the 22nd, I planned to ask my doc to wait another week to induce. I wanted to give my body as much time as I safely could to go into labor on its own.

I showed up at 8:50am on the 22nd, and thus began the roller coaster ride. My blood pressure was very high, and they found protein in my urine - both signs of preeclampsia, a potentially dangerous condition that a small percentage of pregnant women can develop late in pregnancy. I also told the doctor for the first time that I had experienced blurry vision (another sign) for the last couple of weeks. I just happened to mention it, as I didn't realize it was related to preeclampsia. Given all of this data, he was noticeably concerned and told me he wanted to deliver my baby "sooner rather than later".

I said, "Well, I was going to ask for another week..." He just looked at me; he obviously did not like that idea. So I said, "...but you're the doctor, so you tell me."

"I'm on call tomorrow," he said, "so I would like for you to check in to the hospital tonight." Right then, I realized that we were going down a different path than natural childbirth and I started to get a little emotional (which was honestly not rare at all during this time), but I held it in. He explained the basic schedule of what was going to happen at the hospital, and then he had to go and ask me how I was feeling! Well, I pretty much lost it then. If my sweet sister, Holly, wouldn't have been there with me, I would have felt even crazier than I already did. I was disappointed, and I was starting to get scared, and she really helped me feel normal. My doc did, too, and he assured me everything was going to be okay. They put me on the baby monitor for a little while, and the baby's heart rate and activity were stable, so he sent me home and told me to get some rest.

Side note :: It is still quite ironic to me that I was tasked with getting some rest on the day before the birth of my daughter.

I did get some rest physically, but mentally it was not even possible. My mom and grandma came over to help me pack my hospital bag (I know, I know...) and do other last minute things, so I could just lay around and wait to go to the hospital. Jeff got home from work around 6pm, and we were out the door at 7:30pm. I checked into the hospital that night, and they started pitocin at 7am the next morning.

I still tried to deliver without an epidural at first, because I was afraid it would slow down my labor. The contractions were manageable at this point - definitely the first stage - and sometimes I wasn't even aware I was having one until I looked at the monitor. At 1pm, my doctor came in and broke my water, and suddenly the contractions were really, really intense. There was almost no down time between contractions, either, and I wasn't mentally prepared for this huge increase in the pain level.

Around 3pm, I asked the nurse to check my progress. I told myself (no one else at this point) that if I was 5cm or less, I would ask for the epidural. She checked, and I was 3cm. Additionally, when she finished she said, "You know, I think that was a booty I just felt. It wasn't hard. It was soft." I felt a wave of fright come over me, and I whispered, "C-section." No one had said anything about that to that point; we weren't even 100% sure that she was breech. I believe it was the Holy Spirit who put those words in my mouth so I wouldn't be totally freaked later.

My nurse went to get the charge nurse, who check me as well and did an ultrasound and confirmed that Ava was breech. Then they called my doctor, who was there in 30 min, and he checked me AGAIN (3 times in less than an hour) and did another ultrasound. Oh, and at some point in there, they inserted the epidural. It's hard for me to remember the order of everything during that time. This definitely helped take the edge off the contractions, though, for which I was grateful. My doctor told me that my baby was frank breech and wasn't descending at all, so he wanted to just do a C-section. He led us in a prayer, then said he would be back in a couple hours to perform the surgery. I was so anxious for him and the nurses to leave the room so I could just be alone with Jeff and my mom, and as soon as they were out the door, I just lost it. I don't think I have ever cried that hard; I just needed some way to let it all out.

And I don't remember much of the next couple of hours. I may have slept some. The doctor got back to the hospital at 5pm, but we had to wait for the surgery room until 6pm due to another C-section. Finally they wheeled me in there. I do remember feeling good at this point...much less pain, and I knew I would see my little girl very soon. The doctor told me that he was going to pinch me, and if I feel anything I must tell him. Well, I really felt it. So they dosed the epidural again. Five minutes later, another pinch, and I still felt it. They did this two more times and it still didn't take completely, so they decided to do a spinal block. After everything else, this was the final straw for me mentally and emotionally, and I consciously decided to just shut down.

I didn't feel the insertion of the spinal block at all (thank God), and while it caused some nausea, it worked. Five minutes later, our baby was born. And while I was so far from the natural childbirth that I wanted, I did feel it when the doctor pulled her out; it felt like someone was pushing down on my chest. When I heard her cry, I cried from joy and relief. I have never praised the Lord like I did in those moments.

One very cool thing was that Jeff was the first one to see her and talk to her. The doctor had to give her to the NICU nurses to make sure she was breathing properly and had all the meconium cleaned out of her airways. I sent Jeff over to the warming table because I wanted her to at least hear someone she could recognize. I remember him saying, "Hey, baby girl. This is your daddy. Everything is going to be okay." He just said it over and over. What a wonderful moment for them to share! He was so calm and reassuring to her, and to me. The first time I held her was special, too. I couldn't believe how much I already loved her, and as soon as I saw her! My heart just ached, like it does when you fall in love...in fact, I was falling in love. I remember thinking, "Nothing will ever be the same."

And it hasn't.

[Here's a pic of our little Jelly Bean just moments after her birth. They had just taken her foot prints. Jeff is holding her hand. Also, the position of her legs will give you some indication of how she was arranged in the womb.]

Mothering In Community

2010-03-07T11:46:00.002-06:00

New season of life. New blog title. Why not?

The URL will remain the same as I don't want to lose or forget about what I've already written here, so come here for my new thoughts - and hopefully some new discussions - about this thing that I've been doing for thirteen days called BEING A MOTHER.

(Holy crap.)

Still feeling quite overwhelmed by that title as, naturally, it's something my mother would do and not me. But I can now state with a modest amount of force that I am not as overwhelmed as I was a week ago. A week ago, when I would be rocking our little Jelly Bean to sleep and trying to sing Brahms' Lullaby to her...and couldn't make it through ten notes without bursting into tears from joy and terror. Yes, both. Simultaneously.

"Oh my, I have a baby! Oh my...I have a baby?!"

Now would be a good time to say that I'm going to be as unfiltered as is possible in this public forum.

Because apparently this mothering thing is not for the faint of heart.

No, not exactly right, for I have "fainted" plenty over the last couple of weeks. More than I have in any two weeks of my life to date. But as my wonderful pastor said in church this morning (we watched it online), many times when God asks you to do something, He knows you can't do it. He's asking you to do it so that you can learn more about relying on Him.

So I hereby declare for the first of what will be countless times...I am, naturally, pretty self-focused. I have been childless for all of these thirty-two years, after all. I want to sleep when I want, and eat when I want, and shower when I want. I mean, a girl's got to have her dignity after all, right? Right?! Why isn't anyone saying anything?!!

Dignity is not adaptive to current conditions, and I can either hold fast to it and sink this ship, or I can release it and get about the business of surviving. (For me, just having this baby did a good job of loosening lots of that dignity, but that's another story for another time.)

So. I'm trying to eat when I can, and sleep and shower when I can. And maybe someday I'll start cleaning the kitchen again. But for now, this is enough for me.

Actually, in terms of responsibility and blessing, it's more than enough for me.

One Month And Counting

2010-01-19T18:50:00.003-06:00

Exactly one month from my due date, I am feeling...honestly, pretty tired. And achy. But that's just physical stuff. Emotionally, mentally, and spiritually, I feel like I am just primed and ready to go! Ready to have our little girl with us and start the adventure of parenthood with her daddy. I am marveling today at the amazing timing of our Father. Throughout my life, His timing has remained to me the most mysterious and, ultimately, most praise-inducing aspect of His workings in my life.

Great is His faithfulness. His faithfulness is great.

When the Hunk and I met, nearly five years ago, it was a normal Sunday at church and we exchanged just a few words. We were attracted to each other, but that was about it for a couple months. I was kind-of-dating someone else at the time, and he wasn't interested in pursuing a relationship. The kind-of-dating relationship fizzled, as they often do. And then suddenly, here was this guy. And the more time we spent together, the more...comfortable...it felt. For both of us. And I remember thinking, "If we would have met a year ago, we might have completely passed each other over." I had learned some things and matured in some ways that, if I had met him earlier, I wouldn't have given it a second thought. His story is the same, by the way. And as it turns out, we are amazingly well-suited for each other. So...TIMING. Providence.

One of the ways in which we are well-suited is regarding our decision-making process. I tend to make quick, gut-level decisions, and he likes to consider each decision very carefully before he makes up his mind. So, yeah, we can really freak each other out sometimes. :) But we're learning, as you must do in marriage if you're going to have a peaceful and positive experience, to accept and even appreciate what your spouse brings to the table. You gotta learn how to work with what you've got. So when we (finally, from my perspective) decided to try to have kids, I was ready.

A year ago tomorrow, I was sitting in my doctor's office awaiting the results of a pregnancy test. I had taken one at home which had given an ambiguous result. It had the one line it was supposed to have, and a little sliver of the other line. Drove me crazy! :) So I went to the doctor. It was President Obama's Inauguration Day, and the cutest pictures of some multi-racial children (who turned out to be my PCP's grandkids) hung on the walls of the exam room. Let's just say my anticipation level was at an all-time high. After about ten minutes alone, the nurse stuck her head in, gave me the thumbs up, and said..."You're not pregnant!" Yes, the thumbs up. Apparently she had misread my anticipation as ambivalence, perhaps, and thought that would have been good news to me. Basically, it was not. I held it together until I saw the Hunk that night and told him what had happened.

Each month after that was a roller coaster of emotion. Is this the one? Will it happen this month? Please know that I gave it the good ol' college try to not be so excited...but I couldn't help it. I really was.

Then it finally happened! On Father's Day nonetheless, I got to tell the Hunk that he was going to be a daddy. Timing. Providence.

And today, as I sat down at my desk to start working, and saw the date...I was struck again at how perfect the Lord's timing has been in my life. I can honestly say that, even considering developments as recent as a week ago, I have never been more prepared to have a child. Is the nursery completely put together? No. Do we have any clue what awaits us? Heck no. On some level we know this is impossible. So I know I'm not "ready". But I'm ready. I'm peaceful, and as the old gospel song says...

Many things about tomorrow I don't seem to understand,
But I know who holds tomorrow,
And I know who holds my hand.

Aaand...we're done!

2009-12-27T16:35:00.002-06:00

I believe we have successfully navigated yet another holiday season. We did a couple things this year that made it easier on us, so we'll probably continue them in subsequent years:

1. Online shopping. It is mucho wonderful. We bought only one last minute gift; the rest were purchased and arrived a week (or more) before the 25th.

2. We spent Christmas morning at home. We woke up without alarms (which, for us, is still pretty early as neither of us naturally sleep late), then exchanged gifts and cooked a big breakfast. The only noise in the house was the Christmas music playing lowly on the radio. I guess from now on we'll have the noise of Baby Bean as she putters around, but of course we are super excited about those noises. :) It was a wonderfully peaceful morning in the midst of family time and the plague floods of Christmas Eve.

The Hunk's family came up from Lower Arkansas yesterday, to have our Christmas together and celebrate his sister's birthday. We loved having them in our home and hope to do that more in the future. We also spent a fair amount of time with some very special friends. As we said our final goodbyes last night, and closed the door...I realized that we had made it! One huge sigh of relief. It was not a chore to see all of those people - quite a joy actually - but an accomplishment nonetheless that we attended all the events of the last week or so with minimal stress and maximum enjoyment.

Now...what about New Year's Eve...? ;)

Levity

2009-12-17T12:11:00.004-06:00

So many blessings for which to be grateful during this Christmas season, and I have named some of them here. But this week I can't entirely shake a somber mood that descended upon me several days ago. Because we have received some blessings this year, and we've also received some sorrows.

Rachel's Tough Lesson for 2009: People can disappoint you, even if you really love them. Sometimes they can hold in their hands a wonderful gift, and study it, and then throw it on the ground and walk away. And sometimes they are so weighed down by what they bring to the relationship, that they cannot deal with the relationship.

So I'm listening a lot to Brandi, and Emmylou, and Lucinda...and reminding myself that the things I put my hope in will never change. Thank God for that, because even my own heart seems to change with the passing of the seasons or even the rising and setting of the sun. I am vascillating these days between two philosophical extremes: total exposure, and hibernation. This-is-me-and-you-should-just-deal-with-it, or screw-the-world-and-leave-me-alone. But instead of acting on these ideas that could wreak havoc on my personal life, I am trying just to focus on loving God first and letting the rest fall into place. Sweet solace.

2009-12-16T14:57:00.001-06:00

10 Weeks...

2009-12-08T21:44:00.002-06:00

Until my due date.

How will our life change? Let me count the ways. Except I can't, because every time I try, I just get overwhelmed.

It has been my dream to have a baby for so long.

It feels like I'm dreaming right now, in a way, and that I will only wake when she finally arrives here, and into these arms.

An Open Letter to a Friend

2009-12-06T19:16:00.001-06:00

The last time I saw you, you were already different. You were already getting colder, and I saw your disdain for my words slip past that thin, collected surface a couple times. I was startled by this. I knew it was possible you would choose this path, but I didn't expect it so suddenly. So, why? What's the allure for you?

Our meetings used to be filled with chatter and laughter and heart-opening. Warmth. But this one felt more like a chess match, dry and strategic. And while I was not anxious, I was unsure of my next move, and of why I was being forced to strategize instead of just talk. I should have overturned the table. I should have told you that you were full of shit.

You asked me if I thought someone had to be selfish in order to be successful. I asked you if you were willing to give it up if it started to destroy your life. Neither of us gave a straight answer: you, because you really wanted to say "no" but didn't want to say it to my face; and me, because I was still hoping against hope that it wasn't as bad as it already was. So does someone have to be selfish to be successful? Of course not. Is it easier to win kitschy trophies and stand on little platforms waving at crowds of dying people, than to labor unnoticed for a yet unseen eternal reward? Absolutely.

So, why? What's the allure for you?

I have some ideas of what you would say, if you could look me in the eye instead of studying the ground in front of you. If you would answer when I call. If you would show up. I have some ideas because I gave up what mattered for what felt good once. I was hurting, like you are. I was weak, like you are. I was like a diabetic eating cake for every meal. I was born sick, but I was making myself sicker.

You left suddenly that day, after a brief smirk at something I had said. I saw it for what it was - the flailing of a child who was taught to perform for love, and is terrified by anything else - and it didn't hurt me. I asked you when I'd see you again, and the look on your face finally confirmed what I had been denying. We would never talk openly again. I don't remember your words. They didn't matter. I sat down and cried when you walked away.

You can still come back, my friend. My heart would be filled with laughter and my eyes with tears of joy. Do you want me to say that I'm giving up on you? Do you want me to believe it's hopeless? Would that be easier for you? Well, I will not. Peace and healing await you here.

In the movie "Catch Me If You Can," the main character is writing home to his father after initiating a life of crime in a desperate attempt to reunite his estranged family and regain some sense of home. "Dad, you always said that an honest man has nothing to fear. So I'm trying really hard not to be afraid."

Quit trying not to be afraid. Try being honest.

Bigger By the Day

2009-11-21T08:31:00.002-06:00

I can't believe it, but my due date is less than three months away! Until now, and outside of first trimester yuckiness, I have barely "felt" pregnant in the physical sense. Had TONS of emotional symptoms which isn't really surprising given my natural tendencies, but only recently is this little belly growing at alien baby pace into a pretty formidable consideration.

Yesterday I strategized a way to pick several things up off the floor by only bending down once.

I also felt the wind on the underside of my belly while I was walking outside. I was wearing a normal t-shirt, but a size larger than I would ever wear when not pregnant. And it still didn't cover. Oh, my.

I have announced it on FB, but not here, that we are having a baby girl bean. Her nursery is coming together rather nicely, complete with my bedroom suit from childhood. And it seems my anticipation of meeting her and holding her grows with my belly. Simply, words do not suffice.

I Will

2009-10-15T23:03:00.002-05:00

by Brandi Carlile

It's not the end of the world, it's not even over
But it will be soon
I never learned my lesson, I just changed my tune
And no one seems to notice
But you will, you will

It's no big deal
But the last thing I think of when I close my eyes
And the first thing on my mind when I arise
It is a day and you're not really in my life

You can try and you won't find it where you're looking
You can hold it 'til it's putty in your hands
And you can't break a heart that wasn't even yours to break
You can never be there for me in the end
And i will do the right thing
I will, I will, I will

You're not fooling me
I'm not the sort of girl that can't see reason
But it's nothing that a little bit of time won't heal
I know it don't come easy but I love you, I do

Coming clean means never closing curtains
I just changed my scene
Oh but you know what I mean and I will learn throughout my life
To never believe what will have been

I can try and I won't find it where I'm looking
I can hold it 'til it's putty in my hands
You can't break a heart that wasn't even yours to break
You can never be there for me in the end
But I will do the right thing
I will, I will, I will

I don't think you ever learned a thing from me
But I'm sure that you want me to learn from you
And you've drawn heavy-handed lines around morality
About yourself and I don't share your point of view

It's about time to let you go and I thought it's time to let you know
And it has to be the one that you'd regret
I have to say that I'm proud to know you
And I'll never be the same because we met
You might not miss this
I will, I will, I will

Satisfaction

2009-10-12T11:49:00.003-05:00

I judged jr high all-region tryouts on Saturday. When I was a choir director, judging tryouts was one of the necessary drudgeries of the job, and honestly, one of the things I was looking forward to NOT doing again. (The directors reading this may disagree. You may love sitting for ten hours and listening to 200 different students sing the same 2 minutes of music over and over, and over. But not me.) So, why did I do it?

Well, I've been missing my kids. And I knew I would get to see some of them. And it was wonderful! I loved even the few minutes I got with them before I had to run to a meeting, seeing how they are growing into the adults they will be one day. That was one of my favorite parts of teaching -- witnessing the process of growth.

Also, I love their new director. When I decided in Sep of '08 that 08-09 would be my last year of teaching, I started praying then for the new director. We had made some major progress in the three years I had been there, foundational stuff, and I wanted the kids to have a director of some experience and achievement to help them further tap into their potential. Well, they didn't get a director with just some experience -- they got a director with loads of experience and achievement! And to top it off, she really loves them.

That was such an encouragement for me, personally, to know the work would continue. And again, because of her immense expertise, Mrs. Dunavan will grow that program at a much quicker rate and to a deeper level than I could have if I had stayed. She's just awesome.

The first major indicator of this is that TEN of her jr high kids made the all-region choir! I am so happy for those kiddos, each of them! And I will see you guys at the all-region concert!

Baby Bean

2009-09-30T19:26:00.003-05:00

...is kicking. Most of the time it feels like a few little popcorn pops...and every once in awhile, I'll get a pretty firm, "Hey! I'm down here!" It's so sweet. I can't wait until the Hunk can put his hand on my belly and experience this with me.

We will have an ultrasound tomorrow to find out the gender of Baby Bean! We have absolutely no idea, and ironically, the peanut gallery is split about 50/50 with their opinions. Not that it matters what any of us thinks, you know. :) It's kinda already decided; however, I do enjoy hearing what makes people decide something like this. Most say, "I just have a feeling..." as their eyes trail off into the distance mysteriously.

So. I guess about 50% of my friends and family will be rewarded this weekend with the knowledge that their feelings were correct. And the Hunk and I will be 100% elated, no matter what. He said that I'll probably cry. I said, yes, either that or laugh from pure joy.

In Honor of Fall

2009-09-16T13:41:00.002-05:00

White Bean Chicken Chili

(There are a thousand versions of this dish out there, and I've probably made about a dozen of them. I am happy to present here, however, the version that I have enjoyed most of all. I got the basic recipe from allrecipes.com, then snazzed it up with a few more ingredients and spices.)

1 onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tbsp cooking oil
1 lb diced chicken (cooked or uncooked)
2 cans chicken broth
1 can northern beans, not drained
1 can garbanzo beans (aka chick peas), drained
1 can corn, drained
1 7oz can green chiles, not drained
1 tsp whole cumin, toasted for a few minutes then ground (or 1 tsp ground if that's all you have)
1/2 tsp coriander (same here, whole/toasted/ground is better, but ground is fine)
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
sour cream and shredded jack cheese for garnish

1. In a large saucepan, saute onion and garlic in oil. If chicken is uncooked, saute that as well. Cook until onions are translucent and chicken is opaque.

2. Dump in the broth, chicken (if using already cooked chicken), beans, corn, green chiles, spices, salt and pepper. Heat to boiling.

3. Cover and simmer for at least 30 minutes. Serve with sour cream and shredded cheese. Also those Jiffy brand corn muffins are like 89 cents at the grocery store - PERFECT as a compliment, and you can make them up while the chili is simmering.

Procrastination

2009-08-13T14:17:00.005-05:00

I guess my trend for blogging has been a sparse, if regular, creation of new entries. I do read your blogs almost daily, however, and get much enjoyment from them.

I started grad school, and that has required much of me in terms of motivation for writing. Others who have attended grad school would maybe agree with me that it is not necessarily more difficult than undergrad in terms of the intelligence required to succeed...but in terms of the sheer volume of work, it's just off the charts. I have read and written more in the last five weeks than perhaps in 6-9 hours of undergrad work.

That said, I am enjoying myself immensely! I feel like I've already learned so much, and can't wait to get started with the fall semester. But first I need to knock out what promises to be a pretty lengthy literature review paper on Borderline Personality Disorder. Like, this weekend. Because it's due Tuesday. And I haven't even started gathering sources. Oh, my.

And it seems that, just like during my undergrad work, I still believe that there is no motivator like procrastination.

Total change of subject...

Can I just say that I REALLY dislike politics? Or maybe I just dislike the talking heads that endlessly parse and spin every political event, even the most insignificant ones, ad nauseum. Can somebody PA-LEEEAASSEE just tell us what happened, without this compulsive need to tell us what they think about it or what this-or-that expert thinks about it or - worse yet - what I apparently think about it.

It goes like this..."Today, this amazing thing happened in so-and-so with whodilywho and what's-his-face..." And then they'll report verifiable facts (what used to be called news reporting) for 45-60 seconds...and then they'll go to their panel of experts. "Dr. Ambiguously-Qualified, what do you think this means for the American people?" or some other opinion-inducing question will begin a 4-5 minute discussion that is best described as a mini-episode of "The Real World: Washington D.C." And as I see it, this is just the beginning of a chain reaction...

The Right complains about how the Left distorts the facts.

The Left complains about how the Right distorts the facts.

(They BOTH distort the facts, by the way.)

And then we have otherwise civilized people yelling elected officials off of stages in high school gymnasiums...

And the non-yellers complain about the yellers...

Until, as I heard a Republican strategist say on NPR the other day, "This is no worse than the abuse President Bush took at his town hall meetings a few years ago."

That's awesome. The they-started-it defense.

When it comes to politics, I question EVERYTHING. I am uber-skeptical of every single sentence that anyone says about politics. And the more confident someone seems in their own position, the more skeptical I become. "How can you be so sure," I think, "when we possess a cultural disinterest in what actually is?" Maybe that's why I can't really land anywhere philosophically speaking. But can you blame a girl, after she has witnessed this massive comedy of errors for so long?

Coming Soon...

2009-06-28T07:56:00.000-05:00

...to a multi-ethnic church near you! If you live in Little Rock, that is.

Redirect

2009-06-08T18:56:00.003-05:00

The Hunk and I have bought a house. We will be moving into this house at the end of the month, and our roommates have rented/bought dwellings of their own. Thus ends the (current) community living experiment. I am going to maintain this blog, however, because: 1) I expect and hope to remain intimately involved in our current roommates lives, and 2) I am still very, very interested in growing into greater community with the other believers the Father has put in our life.

I am also in transition professionally speaking. Last Tuesday was my last day as a public school teacher, and I will begin work on a master's degree in marriage and family therapy next month. It was bittersweet leaving that campus for the last time, the campus where I spent three years developing a foundation for a solid choir program...where I often sat staring at the walls at 4pm completely overwhelmed by the emotional and social issues of my students and the hefty workload of teaching...where I more than once threw up my hands at the futility of my fledgling classroom management skills...where I saw some kids fall in love with music, and in the process believe in themselves a little more...where I saw others battle their demons, and sometimes lose...but then sometimes they won. I lived for the winning moments. And, oh yeah, we made good music with increasing frequency.

But now, if the Lord wills, I will very shortly be connecting with other kids like these about those emotional and social issues...and not about the issues through the vehicle of Latin pronunciation or lyrical interpretation or music theory. Because while I love teaching and I absolutely love my subject, I have discovered that I love people more. So why not cut out the middle man, so to speak?...And even now my demons of inadequacy and rejection peek around the corner at me. It is obvious they are scheming. They would perhaps even manipulate the mouths of other people to speak lies and condemnation. Salt water from a fresh spring. They are persistent, I'll give 'em that. But they are also foolish, because they're fighting a losing battle.

There's this old hymn we used to sing growing up, I think probably from the Heavenly Highways hymnal, at that country church in El Paso. It's taken directly from:

2 Timothy 1:12 (KJV): "I am not ashamed: for I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day."

2 Tim. 1:12 (ISV): "I am not ashamed, for I know the one in whom I have put my trust, and I'm convinced that he is able to protect what he has entrusted to me until the day that he comes."

And here's the hymn text of I Know Whom I Have Believed, by Daniel W. Whittle:

1. I know not why God's wondrous grace
to me he hath made known,
nor why, unworthy, Christ in love
redeemed me for his own.

Refrain:
 But I know whom I have believed, 
 and am persuaded that he is able 
 to keep that which I've committed
 unto him against that day. 

2. I know not how this saving faith
to me he did impart,
nor how believing in his word
wrought peace within my heart.

3. I know not how the Spirit moves,
convincing us of sin,
revealing Jesus through the word,
creating faith in him.

4. I know not when my Lord may come,
at night or noonday fair,
nor if I'll walk the vale with him,
or meet him in the air.

 But I know whom I have believed, 
 and am persuaded that he is able 
 to keep that which I've committed
 unto him against that day.

Emergent/C - An Invitation from Karen Sloan

2009-05-17T08:35:00.003-05:00

Hey friends! I received this in an email from a friend who knows of my interest in intentional community. I thought I would post it here for those who are also interested. Grace and peace...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Formation House:
a place for folks considering intentional community

By Karen Sloan

In conversations about the church emerging some participants have an inescapable tug to life in community, for purposes of announcing the Kingdom of God is near. But there is often a gaping hole between folks' visions and sustainable lived reality. I was one of these people. Then, six months ago, a few week stay in Pittsburgh led into a structured commitment of intentional community training, which I am excited to invite others to join me in.

As the author of Flirting with Monasticism: Finding God on Ancient Paths, I have met countless people seeking ways to embody missional faith in intentional communities. And my ears have perked up when Emergent leaders validate this part of emerging Christianity (see quotes below). Yet, after a multi-year search of knocking on community doors, I failed in finding long-term new monastic training.

What I gained was a number of formative pieces, which equip me for living out a blend of prayer and work with a community. Now in God's unexpected ways I find myself organizing a foundational year, for others to become leaders with intentional Christian communities, sharing rhythms of prayer and work: Formation House.

A hope of the diverse team working to get this dream launched in the next six months is to serve monastic stirrings within friends of Emergent Village. If you are this flavor of emergence, it would be a joy to have you check out the information on our website and consider applying to enter an annual cycle (and perhaps join our facebook page?). A key distinctive for participants in Formation House is not only sharing daily rhythms of prayer and work, but also receiving substantial support through a growth process of becoming a well-formed intentional community member.

Apply now for this year's cycle beginning at the end of August!

Pray. Work. Grow.

Phyllis Tickle: "I don't think anybody knows exactly where the Great Emergence is going, much less where the Christianity, emerging/emergent, coming out of it is going to go exactly, but there are some contours that are clearly visible right now and can be described. ... It is definitely communal, even to point that about a quarter of it is probably engaged in a form of monasticism."

Brian McLaren: "What's needed is a profound reorganization of our way of life, not a squeeze- another-hour-for-'community' into the week. ... I expect that this thirst for community will lead to a lot of experimentation in the years ahead. Perhaps many of our churches will become more like Catholic churches in the past, where the ideal parish had a few households where monks or nuns lived in community, practicing radical hospitality that would overflow to the community at large."

This week's TheOoze.TV segment is an interview with Karen all about flirting with monasticism, living in intentional communities, and Formation House.

Karen Sloan is a PC(USA) minister and an Emergent leader. She often hosts conversations about monastic life and leads groups in ancient practices like the Liturgy of the Hours.

Upcoming Events: 2009 Emergent Village Theological Conversation with Jürgen Moltmann

email: newsletter@emergentvillage.com
web: http://www.emergentvillage.com

Emergent Village | P.O. Box 390104 | Minneapolis | MN | 55439-0104

The Long Way Home

2009-05-14T11:04:00.001-05:00

Well I stumbled in the darkness
I'm lost and alone
Though I said I'd go before us
And show the way back home
Is there a light up ahead
I can't hold onto very long
Forgive me pretty baby but I always take the long way home

Money's just something you throw
Off the back of a train
Got a handful of lightning
A hat full of rain
And I know that I said I'd never do it again
And I love you pretty baby but I always take the long way home

I put food on the table
And roof overhead
But I'd trade it all tomorrow
For The highway instead
Watch your back if I should tell you love's the only thing I've ever known
One thing for sure pretty baby I always take the long way home

You know I love you baby
More than the whole wide world
I'm your woman
You know you are my pearl
Let's go out past the party lights
We can finally be alone
Come with me and we can take the long way home
Come with me, together we can take the long way home
Come with me, together we can take the long way home

Knowing

2009-05-09T12:01:00.001-05:00

I'm in a Lucinda Williams mood lately, and truth be told, often. I just love her voice and her songwriting ability. And I can think when I listen to her.

The Accepting

2009-04-18T13:44:00.001-05:00

By Me, April 18, 2009

You are the answer to my loneliness
But you elude my touch, my eyes, my ears
I can't hold you
I can't look at you
I can't listen to you

But you can hold me (up)
You can see (all of) me
You hear my (unformed) thoughts

I rest in the utter fullness of
The knowing of me and
The accepting

John Mark McMillan

2009-03-25T07:40:00.004-05:00

I have found another great listen that I want to share with you all. Last Sunday at church, we sang "How He Loves" by John Mark McMillan -- an amazing song which prompted me to research Mr. McMillan on the interweb. I have since downloaded his album, The Song Inside the Sounds of Breaking Down, and will most definitely download The Medicine in a few weeks.

Here is a short video of "How He Loves":

And here is another, slightly longer, video which explains the circumstances surrounding the writing of "How He Loves". Have some tissues handy, because it's pretty heavy.

Time flies...

2009-03-17T14:37:00.003-05:00

...when you're having fun.

Wednesday, March 18th, will mark the three year anniversary to my marriage to Mr. Jeffrey Carl Pinto. We've been through a lot over the past three years, some good and some bad, and all of it a grand adventure. We have definitely learned a lot. Maybe Jeff will tell you someday what he has learned, but I won't speak for him. I'll share a few things I have learned.

1. God's plan for my marriage is not to make me happy; it's to make me holy. This was God's plan for my life in singleness, too, by the way. I am still tempted to look to Jeff (or coerce him, on my really bad days) to be the source of my satisfaction or peace. Long story short, it doesn't work. He feels stepped on and manipulated, and I feel greater frustration as a result of the coercion process. When I remember to let Jeff be himself, and let me be myself, and let God be God...things go easier for me. And then guess what happens? I'm happier! Funny how that works, huh? For a more detailed conversation on this topic, please see The DNA of Relationships by Gary Smalley.

2. I decide how I view my differences with my partner. My pastor's wife shared this bit of wisdom with us during pre-engagement counseling (back in the day, I was a little freaked by the idea of marriage, and pre-engagement counseling was one extra step we took). This is basically it: character traits are neutral; they are neither good nor evil. We sometimes unconsciously attribute moral judgments to them, but they are just simply that - our judgements. The biggest difference Jeff and I have is how we make decisions. He prefers to take his time, think/talk through every option, and sometimes even make the decision in such a way that it can be reversed if he wants to explore another option. I prefer to quickly survey available information, maybe consult one or two other people, and then make a decision based primarily on my gut feeling. We are both pretty successful and sane people, so our individual decision-making processes helped us just fine when we were single. But we're not single; we're married.

Now. This is where I decide how to view Jeff. There is always a positive light and a negative light. The positive light is that he is methodical, thorough, and very concerned with being a wise steward of what God gave him. The negative light involves words like passive, indecisive, distractible. It's obvious which perspective will support my marriage, and which perspective will harm it. Conversely, Jeff could say that I am impulsive, reckless, or even foolish for making such quick decisions. Instead, he sees (we both see) the Lord's hand in us being put on the same team. And we strive to find balance and to help each other grow into more well-rounded people. I am thankful for such an amazing friend!

I am also thankful for God giving us that wisdom via our pastor's wife before we even got married.

3. I really am more in love today than I was three years ago. And not in the way I would expect. It's like now I have more data to support the feelings I had then (we're great for each other; he's always so kind; we have so much fun). Those feelings/thoughts were true then, but after three years, I can tell you I believe them all the more.

I love you, Jeff, and I can't think of anyone else with whom I would want to share this life more than you. You are my rock, and I admire you more than you know.

I love you, stud!

Fiction Family

2009-02-07T10:48:00.004-06:00

...is my new favorite listen. Comprised of Jon Foreman, frontman for Switchfoot, and Sean Watkins of the now-defunct Nickel Creek. Songwriting at its best, and as this album was recorded during gaps in traveling and other obligations over the course of a few years, it offers much variety in style and orchestration. If you like that sort of thing. And why would you NOT?! :)

Here are lyrics for one of my favorites, which reminds me (a little bit) of Don McLean or early Billy Joel:

Please Don't Call It Love

you were indifferent
i was young
we were both drinking fiction with greedy tounges
you were waiting for someone
something to happen
something irrational
climbing the walls and falling in love

how do you find me here my dove
where my sun also rises sure enough
i was waiting for someone
something to happen
something ridiculous
climbing the walls and falling to what i now would call your bluff

please don't call it love

screaming like screen play off the cuff
we were both stuck pretending our dreams were enough
i will walk in the morning worn in the day
i thought i could i have you miles away from falling in love

truth finds time sweet enough
please don't call it love

Caffeine

2009-02-01T00:28:00.002-06:00

I can't sleep. I have to be at church in six and a half hours.

Lucinda Williams...

Cat Power...

And finally, the queen...

LOST

2009-01-25T10:04:00.002-06:00

We had a little party last night to watch the season premiere of LOST. I am a huge LOST fan, thanks to our friends A and J, who loaned me season one on DVD last Christmas. Since then I have watched the rest of the seasons and was caught up and ready for season five to start last week. And actually, my roommate Kim and I stayed up on Wednesday night for the very first, 12:30am premiere (and didn't discover until 1:30am that it was a two hour premiere!).

So at our party, I served pulled pork (in honor of Locke), stir-fried veggies and rice (in honor of Jin and Sun), peanut sauce (Claire's pregnancy craving for peanut butter) and...poppyseed muffins (for Charlie). I think a good time was had by all. At least, I really enjoyed having everyone over and swapping theories. We think we know who Faraday's mom is. But that's all I'm gonna say about that.

My favorite quote from last night...

"Maybe if you ate more comfort food, you wouldn't have to go around killing people all the time." -- Hurley

Earmuffs!

2009-01-03T16:25:00.004-06:00

I don't make New Year's Resolutions. I don't make resolutions as a general rule, in fact. I think they are a scheme of the enemy to bring shame into my life. Okay, I'm being a little dramatic. Resolutions have a place in one's life if s/he must resolve to do something very needful...like stop cussing around his/her 16 month old niece. Not that I or anyone I know has that problem around their 16 month old niece...But even then, one would rather put forth a very serious effort on a daily basis, than to make promises or declarations that cannot be kept perfectly (especially given one's propensity to VENT at home, and to sometimes curse while venting). Okay, it's me. I cuss around my niece. I'm trying to stop. But I'm not resolving to stop. I'm just...stopping...

The good ol' college try.

My hubby is starting RN school on Monday. Lord willing, he will finish in a year. I just know he's going to do a great job - he's such a hard worker and loves helping people. I'm so blessed to be his wife. I just enjoy being around him so much! We have such silly times.

I think I'm going back to school too. As a student, I mean. The decision-making process on this one has been pretty long, but it boils down to this nagging inner desire to get a graduate degree and an increasing interest in the counseling ministry. I think we have decided upon John Brown University, as they have a well known program and the schedule is very workable around my other responsibilities. I'm taking the GRE on Feb 7, and I'll start the program either in the summer or the fall! I'm super, super excited about this new adventure and everything I will learn.

Life at the house is always fun and interesting. We've had lots of people over lately, which I LOVE, and I have been acutely aware of how blessed we are to know so many great people. Oh, and we bought a Wii. That was our Christmas present to ourselves (hubby and me), and let me tell you -- it is a BLAST!! A big part of the fun is just sitting and watching other people play, but I must confess I am a pretty good Wii Tennis player. :) I stink at boxing. Absolutely stink.

So I guess that's about all that's going on. Or the major stuff anyway. I'll try to update sometime before spring break, but who knows how things will go with this semester. It looks to be a busy one. Grace and peace to you.

Giving Thanks

2008-11-25T08:47:00.002-06:00

So my pastor shared a great sermon this past Sunday. It's not on the website yet, but when it is, look for 11-23-08 here. I very rarely recommend sermons unless I feel they are authentic, full of truth, and useful - and this sermon met all three criteria for me.

The title of the talk was "Loving Your Parents", and I anticipated it with a fair amount of trepidation. I do love and respect my parents for everything they did for me - that's not it. But when I hear that a sermon is going to be about relationships, my first question is whether or not the presenter is going to be real about life. I am a child of divorce, and I know more people who experienced divorce or some other tragedy in their growing up years than I do those who did not. So, let's just get down to the nitty gritty, you know? But no worries here. After some introductory material on the Biblical ideal of family relationships, he launched into a time of openness and vulnerability that I rarely see in the pulpit - sharing examples from his own life when necessary, but undergirding the whole time with honesty and frankness. I could tell several people were touched. And I just want to say, keep it coming! People want us to be vulnerable and real, because it helps them be vulnerable and real. In my estimation, this is a major aspect of servant-leadership - humbling oneself (in regards to emotional, or financial, or spiritual matters, or decision-making, et al) so that others will feel more comfortable following suit.

We had our home group right after church, and I opened by talking about the sermon. Even within our group, of the ten people there, only two were going to have Thanksgiving with a family who had not experienced some tragedy (divorce, death, unhealthy relationship patterns, or whatever else). So what do we say to this?

Certainly there are some who would say that people these days complain more. That we should just keep family matters private. While there is something to be said for decorum and respecting the integrity of intimate relationships, I believe this idea as a social more can discourage hurting people from reaching out. Indeed, it can discourage sick people from finding the help they need to get well. I am not interested in complaining for its own sake, but strive to push myself and those around me to answer a simple question in regards to familial difficulties -- What is God trying to say to me? (Not that He originated the difficulties, but that He is always with us and never leaves us and therefore has something to say in the midst of the difficulty.)

Sometimes just asking the question is enough. Sometimes just reminding myself of His presence is enough to comfort me and check my emotions. But more often, I ask that question, and then I get an answer.

"I put this person in your life for a reason. Don't waste it."

"I am with you always, even to the ends of the earth."

"As a man thinks in his heart, so is he."

I hate that last one. Just so you know. It gets me every time.

But what do we do with really tragic stuff? What do we do with our abusers? What do we do with parents who will never be satisfied? What do we do when we really have actually screwed up and they don't have much to be proud of? Or when they really screw up and we're pissed?

We talk. We find that person if possible, or someone trustworthy if not possible, and talk about it. We humble ourselves in openness and frankness so that the other person has the opportunity to follow suit. I had a sweet conversation last night during which I was wonderfully reminded how much healing takes place just when we talk about something. No huge revelations. No advice sought or offered. Just talking and relating and sharing life. We could all use more of this.

And He will restore us. The longing for complete intimacy and complete adventure is stamped on every person's soul, and the Bible tells us that we will achieve these completely in eternity with Jesus. Indeed, we will always feel the ache until the day we meet with Him. But I am convinced that He does not want us to stagnate while we are waiting for that moment. "Let your Kingdom come, let your will be done on earth as it is in heaven." This is our prayer. And this is our job. But it is a sweet and satisfying work.

How many have been required to relinquish an unholy relationship, only to have that relationship restored in a new and life-giving context?

How many have endured excruciating excavation of past tragedies, only to realize that these tragedies somehow do not hold the same power or menace over us that they once did?

How many have been able to empathize with some other hurting soul, and have thus realized the truth of Joseph's life? "What you intended for evil, the Lord intended for good and the saving of many souls." (Gen. 50:20)

And it is for this that I give thanks. That He pulled me out of the miry clay and set my feet upon a rock. That He has restored relationship and passion and purpose. That He is the God who heals me.

You have given me more than I could ever have wanted...You alone are good.

1 Peter 2:13-25

2008-11-08T09:13:00.002-06:00

"Submit yourselves for the Lord's sake to every human institution, whether to a king as the one in authority, or to governors as sent by him for the punishment of evildoers and the praise of those who do right. For such is the will of God that by doing right you may silence the ignorance of foolish men. Act as free men, and do not use your freedom as a covering for evil, but use it as bondslaves of God. Honor all people, love the brotherhood, fear God, honor the king.

"...Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example for you to follow in His steps, who committed no sin, nor was any deceit found in His mouth; and while being reviled, He did not revile in return; while suffering, He uttered no threats, but kept entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously; and He Himself bore our sins in His body on the cross, so that we might die to sin and live to righteousness; for by His wounds you were healed.

"For you were continually straying like sheep, but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Guardian of your souls."

(emphasis mine)

Otto

2008-11-07T09:48:00.002-06:00

Today I attend the memorial service for Dr. Otto Helweg, a very accomplished man by whom I was initially a little intimidated, but who came to be a known by me and Jeff as a ruthlessly humble and relentlessly devoted follower of Christ. It was not unusual for Otto, during our home group meetings, to explain Greek texts from the New Testament in one breath and talk about the first time he noticed his wife's legs in the next breath.

My friend, Ines, wrote a glowing tribute. I will leave a link to it later. It took me fifteen minutes to write that first paragraph. I simply have too much to say, and conversely cannot figure how to say it all. But you should know that I was blessed for having known Otto. Anyone who knew him was blessed for having known him.

Speaking of old-new music...

2008-10-27T22:18:00.002-05:00

I am REALLY enjoying my Spin Doctors album these days. Whatever happened to them?

"One, two princes kneel before you..."

Please Read the Letter

2008-10-25T12:26:00.002-05:00

By Page and Plant

Caught out running
With just a little too much to hide
Maybe baby, everything's gonna turn out fine
Please read the letter, I nailed it to your door
It's crazy how it all turned out
We needed so much more

Too late, too late
A fool could read the signs
Maybe baby, you'd better check between the lines
Please read the letter, I wrote it in my sleep
With help and consultation from
The angels of the deep

Please read the letter that I wrote
Please read the letter that I wrote

Once I stood beside a well of many words
My house was full of rings and
Charms and pretty birds
Please understand me, my walls came falling down
There's nothing here that's left for you
But check with lost and found

Please read the letter that I wrote
Please read the letter that I wrote

One more song just before we go
Remember baby, you're gonna reap just what you sow
Please read my letter and promise you'll keep
The secrets and the memories and
Cherish in the deep

Please read the letter, I nailed it to your door
It's crazy how it all turned out
We needed so much more

Please read the letter that I wrote
Please read the letter that I wrote
Please read the letter that I wrote
Please read the letter that I wrote

Wait for it, wait for it...

2008-10-21T19:20:00.002-05:00

I went to the batting cages after work today. I have had a week of funkiness, internal and external, and thought it would do me some good to experience some physical exertion. And the whole hitting-the-crap-out-of-something thing was extremely attractive, truth be told.

I went to Gator Park on Baseline, and when I got there I was actually the only customer. It felt kind of creepy to walk into the game room with all of the video games making noises - and nobody in there. I finally got an employee to the counter, and then told him I wanted to use a cage for a half hour. He raised his eyebrow and said, "You gonna hit all them balls?"

I said, "Well, how many are there?" I couldn't help myself.

"Um, I don't know." Then he looked down and busied himself with the credit card machine. I mean, I know I don't completely look like the lithe athletic machine that I once (thought I) was. But I can still handle a half hour of exercise.

So I finally made it out to the batting cage, chose a bat, and hit the button. I love exercise for the mindlessness. I spend all day at work being engaged and challenged mentally...and then, all I need to think about is, wait, swing, hit. Wait, swing, hit. Not that I hit it every time. Especially since I indulged my fantasy of being a switch hitter. That part wasn't pretty, but still fun.

And despite my goal of mindlessness, I realized a few life lessons during this little adventure. (I can't help it. I'm a teacher; it's what I do.)

1. Always control yourself. I went there to hit the crap out of a few softballs. But when I swung like I was hitting the crap out of them, I would overswing or otherwise waste my motion. On the other hand, when I focused my will and energy, I connected solidly.

2. Don't get distracted. In other words, keep your eye on the ball. In other words, when the big muscly guy in the cage next to you starts grunting and swinging faster than any person you've seen in your life, you should still watch the balls coming your way or you may get hit in the shin by a wayward pitch. This kinda stings.

3. Wait for a good pitch. Swinging at bad pitches almost always produces bad results. Even if you are in a swinging mood, you will only get more frustrated at yourself when you get crappy hits.

Now...to apply this in daily life...only slightly more challenging than being a switch hitter.

Peace and grace to you.

Far Beyond Me

2008-10-20T19:39:00.002-05:00

I got a new CD the other week, and I can't stop listening to it. Caroline Cobb Smith's album, "Far Beyond Me" is full of solid songwriting, charming melodies, and interesting instrumentation. Not to mention a great voice. Apparently there's a new album in the works, which makes me very excited. Get this album, folks, and you can someday say you were Caroline's fan way back when.

Take It All In

2008-09-23T22:55:00.007-05:00

What makes one day more special than another? What embues a moment with extra light, and more vivid color, than the one previous? What broadcasts an apparently casual statement onto a billboard in my mind? I'm not entirely sure, but I thrive on those moments. Normal life, normal schedule...then suddenly I feel the nudge and I see the spotlight.

Most of my living takes place between the magic - during the perfectly-fine days at work, and comfy-cozy evenings at home or with friends. It is vital to be my best during this time, to live fully even when I don't feel like it. Or when I don't feel like it makes a difference.

But then it happens. Maybe I meet someone new, or visit someplace new. And as I am walking through the unusual day, it is as if there is a small voice in my ear saying, "Remember this one. This is special."

One such moment happened about a year ago, when my sister and her family had traveled from their home in Boston to spend time with the rest of us here in Little Rock. It had been a great visit, but finally, the time for them to depart was looming on the horizon of my mind and I was spending one last afternoon with them. It just so happened that I got to spend the majority of the afternoon with my 3-year-old niece, C, by running errands and cooking supper and reading. When it was time for me to leave in the evening, I was saying my good-byes and barely holding back the tears. My family is so special to me, and saying good-bye is never easy, no matter how many times we do it. So I picked up C, and she gave me a big hug and smiled, and said, "Can I keep you for a really long time?"

Needless to say, this was an extremely bittersweet moment. I so wanted to say, "Yes." But I didn't. I handed her to her mama and I went to the restroom to compose myself. And I knew I would never, ever forget that day.

Somebody "Gets" It!

2008-09-05T16:26:00.002-05:00

I just read this article, by Richard J. Mouw. I'm smiling from ear to ear. I am quoting below the section of the article that spoke to me the most. I think by now most evangelical Christians are conscious of some sort of disconnect between who we are, and who we appear to be, to those outside our group. Undoubtedly, we usually don't make things better. But there are a few prominent evangelical voices with whom I identify, and Richard Mouw is one of them. I'm going to stop writing now and just let you read the article.

~~~~~~~~

"I spoke at Chautauqua this summer, as part of a week of lectures in the Abrahamic religions. There were two days of Jewish lectures, a couple of Muslim lectures, and then I was the last speaker. The president of Notre Dame spoke in the morning, and I was last in the afternoon. There was a lot of evangelical bashing that went on. I was told that the crowd was largely liberal mainline Protestants, with a smattering of people who just had an intellectual interest in religion, but weren't believers. And there were a lot of Jews, and quite a few Muslims. So I spoke to this audience of mainly liberal Protestants, Jews, and Muslims.

"I explained evangelicalism to them, as I understood it, and tried to say, "You shouldn't equate evangelicalism, as a movement that cares about the gospel, with the religious right." I did all that, and then concluded by saying, "You know I live with a number of tensions, and I want to describe one in my life," and this was my ending with them. I told them about the National Prayer Breakfast this year, where Bono spoke in the morning-he was wonderful. Then at the leadership luncheon, in Washington, the speaker was King Abdullah of Jordan. And he was great! He called Christians, Jews, and Muslims of good will to work together against extremism of all sorts. He condemned terrorism and expressed sympathy with the people of Israel who had experienced terrorist acts-horrible things. It was a very reconciling approach, and very intelligent. He quoted passages from the Koran that spoke about the need to be peacemakers, to be good neighbors, to love other people, to show mercy toward others that you disagree with. Then, after the luncheon, about 20 of us were invited to spend an hour and a half behind closed doors with His Majesty. Rick Warren was there, and a number of others, but also quite a few Muslims and Jews. It was mainly evangelicals, Muslims, and Jews. And King Abdullah was even better in private. People asked him questions, he made his case, and he was so sharp! So bold, so courageous; really great.

"At the end his bodyguards came in, ready to whisk him away, along with an older rabbi from New York City. But the rabbi said, "Your Majesty, you've got to stay one more minute. I've got to say something before you go. So tell your people to get their hands off you; I've got to say something." Then he said to King Abdullah: "I'm so impressed with you. We need you." He said, "I worry about your life. I worry about your safety. I worry about the safety of your family. Take care of yourself. Surround yourself with people who will protect you. We need you." And this rabbi said, "Before you go: This is presumptuous, I know, but all of us sitting around this table are the children of Abraham. And I'm going to do something on behalf of all of the children of Abraham. I want to give you a blessing. I promise you I'm going to pray for you, but right now, I want to give you a blessing." And then, the rabbi gave King Abdullah the Aaronic blessing: "The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you; the Lord lift up the light of his countenance upon you, and give you peace." I cried. It was a wonderful moment.

"I described this to the Chautauqua crowd, and I said, "You know, I've got to say this, as an evangelical Christian. I believe everything I've said prior to this in my talk today, in the God whom I worship as an evangelical. And I believe with all my heart that that God looked down there and saw that rabbi blessing that Muslim king, and God said, 'That's the way I want it to be. This is the kind of thing that I want to happen in the world.'" You know, there's that great passage in Genesis 17, where Abram goes before the Lord, and the Lord says, "I'm going to establish my covenant with you. I'm going to change your name, and I'm going to give you a son. You don't have him yet, but you're going to have a son. I'm going to make my covenant with him, and through him all the nations of the earth will be blessed." Abram says, "But I already have a son, Ishmael. What about him?" Then there's an amazing passage, where the Lord God says: "Nope. I'm going make my covenant with Isaac. But I heard you about Ishmael, and him, too, will I bless."

"There is a sense of mystery there: that as a son of Isaac gave a blessing to a son of Ishmael, something profound was happening. I don't understand it all. And I said this at Chautauqua: I don't know. I don't know how to explain it all in my theology, but I'm willing to live with that mystery. And I said to them, "I've got to tell you another thing about myself. Every NFL game, behind the goal posts, somebody gets a seat and holds up a John 3:16 sign. That's me. Behind all the goal posts at the championship games, behind the backboard, there's somebody with a John 3:16 sign. That's always going to be me. I'll live with the mystery. I'll acknowledge that, but at the same time, I've got to hold up the sign that says, 'For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whosoever believes in him will not perish but have everlasting life.' I've got to tell you that."

"Well, they applauded, and that was the end. Then a wonderful thing happened. A Jewish woman stood up, and she said, "You've destroyed my image of evangelicals, and I want to thank you." She said, "I want to tell you something. I'm going to pray for you." She said, "I worry about your safety."

"Billy Graham comments: "I'm willing to live with the mystery. And yet, at the same time, every time I get a chance to say it to a Jew, or a Muslim, or a Hindu, or a Buddhist, I will say it: 'Jesus Christ is the only way. There's only one Savior.' I'll leave it up to God, as to how he gets through to people and what he's going to do, but I'm going to preach Jesus Christ, and him crucified."

Awake

2008-08-31T18:01:00.003-05:00

Old stories and new dreams
arise from nowhere, from predictable rhythm,
from beneath the surface of predictable days,
Waking Me.

Things I used to say,
always wanted,
and never believed.

Old dreams and new characters.
The Champion of my heart,
of my dreams.
And I'm new, getting newer,
And More Awake.

Creamy Chicken Spinach Pasta

2008-08-26T19:16:00.002-05:00

I made this tonight from stuff we had in the fridge and pantry. It's very similar to a recipe my sister, Holly, gave me. I hope you like it!

Ingredients:
1.5 lb chicken breasts, cooked and cubed
8 oz pasta (penne, spaghetti, angel hair, whatever)
10 oz pkg frozen spinach, thawed and drained very well (squeeze in your hands)
8 oz sour cream or softened cream cheese
1 c milk
4-6 oz shredded monterey jack cheese
8 oz French's fried onions, divided use
.5 tsp garlic powder
.5 tsp salt
.5 tsp black pepper

1. Preheat oven to 350.

2. Cook and cube the chicken. You could use leftover chicken, or you could boil the chicken for 10 minutes, cool for 5 minutes, then cut into cubes.

3. Meanwhile, cook the pasta according to package directions, less 2-3 minutes, and drain.

4. After chicken and pasta are ready, combine spinach, chicken, sour cream or cream cheese, milk, shredded cheese, garlic powder, salt, pepper, and half of the onions. Stir to combine. Add more milk if necessary to make this mixture very saucy. (If you're using cream cheese, make sure it is very soft or this step will be annoying. Heat in the microwave for 10 sec intervals, then stir, to soften.)

5. Stir in pasta, then dump into a big casserole dish that has been sprayed with Pam. Cook at 350 for 30 minutes. Remove from oven, top with remaining onions, then cook for 5 more minutes. Serve immediately.

Ruminate

2008-08-23T09:46:00.002-05:00

While I was in college, Caedmon's Call was the band I listened to if I felt a little melancholy or introspective. And given that I was usually melancholy and introspective during this time, I listened to lots of Caedmon's Call. Even now I return to their albums when I find myself in this mood. Kind of rainy and dreary and quiet. The weather matches my mood today.

SOMEWHERE NORTH
It's a muggy night in Houston
And all the intersections are like full service stations
I'm on my way to a familiar place
It's cold in Kansas City
And you can no more hear me than I can see your face
How I wish it was just you and me

We wouldn't have to talk above the crowd
We wouldn't have to talk so loud

I give you my life and all I am
But what I have to give
So I hand you a candid photograph of this little boy
'Cause I have nothing to my name
But I can give you that

I don't miss the driving
Seems like forever
And I'm always driving in my mind
And wearing out the road that gets me there

And I'm driving till my eyes just can't see straight
But I suppose that it's getting late

I may never find the sleep
I've lost all feeling in my hands and
Feet may touch the ground but
My mind's somewhere north of here

40 ACRES
Out on these Texas plains you can see for a million lives
And there's a thousand exits between here and the state line
About the last time that I saw you
You said call me Pandora, call me a fool

And I'm thinking this view it could do you some good
So drop these scales and take a look

There's 40 acres and redemption to be found
Just along down the way
There is a place where no plow blade has turned the ground
And you will turn it over, 'cause out here hope remains
'Cause out here hope remains...

Out here the Texas sky is as big as the sea
And you're alone in your room like an island floating free
Your spirit's hanging in a bottle out on a tree
You say that you're the black sheep, I say you're still family

So throw that bottle to the waves
They'll bring you in to me and from the shore you will see

Out here the Texas rain is the hardest I've ever seen
It'll wash your house away, but it'll also make you clean
Now these rocks they are crying too
And this whole land is calling out for you

Baby In the House

2008-08-09T10:56:00.002-05:00

One of the other questions I am sometimes asked is, "What's it like living with a baby, considering you have no children of your own?"

First off, let me just encourage you to look at this face, and tell me what could be bad about living with this beautiful treasure. I challenge you to think of something, anything, that would not be outweighed by the fabulous joy of witnessing and participating in her daily growth.

Logistically, one thing that is different about living with a baby is that sometimes the parent(s) will ask for occasional babysitting. This has worked fine for us, because we're glad to do it when we can, and when we can't, she's fine with us saying no. I'm sure discipline will become a more complex issue, but right now we're just collectively trying to keep her little fingers out of light sockets and such.

An amazing scene involving her struggle to do right: This house has a central vacuum, which means there are outlets on a few walls with a cover that pulls back to reveal the hole where the vacuum tube attaches. It's about 1.5 inches across, and it's kind of dusty, so we discourage her from pulling back the cover. It's right at eye level, though, so it's a big temptation for her. The other day, she was standing a couple feet from the outlet, staring intently at it...reaching for it...and saying, "Don't, don't." Then she turned and looked at Andrea, her mom, and started inching toward it, still saying, "Don't, don't." I felt a mixture of amusement and, well, sadness for her. Not even a year old, and already feeling the pull between obedience and disobedience.

Fortunately, as soon as Andrea said, "Yes, don't," that was enough for her and she walked away. :) She's such a little joy! I know it'll get tougher to convince her to obey, but we're just relishing every moment on this crazy ride.

How Do You Split Up Household Chores?

2008-08-01T07:36:00.002-05:00

You may not believe it, but this hasn't been a huge issue for us. We have yet to organize a "chore chart" or make rules or anything. Everyone is just kind of responsible for their own spaces (bathrooms, bedrooms), and for the common areas we just do what we can when we can. We're all pretty interested in keeping a clean house, and this makes it easier I think.

TOTAL HONESTY: I have on a few occasions been tempted to complain about this aspect of living with other people. There are more dirty dishes, we have to share a washer and dryer, and there is NO END to the amount of mail we receive! But when I think about the whole "speck in your brother's eye, plank in your own" thing...the obvious answer is, "If it bothers you so much, do something about it!" If the kitchen is dirty, clean it. If there's mail everywhere, sort it and put it in people's bedrooms. After all, why would it bother me so much to clean up someone else's mess? Because I'm SELFISH. Because I have an over-developed sense of personal justice and may need to just suck it up a little and try to be a servant. Maybe. I'm just suggesting.

However, like I said, we do not live with slobs. I guess if we felt like we were always cleaning up after one person, it would be different. Not sure what we would do then.

Do You Miss Having Your Own Home?

2008-07-29T17:27:00.002-05:00

The short answer here is, "Sometimes." We've all given up some stuff to live together for this season. Some personal preferences suffer - little stuff, like me letting someone else use my cutlery and cookware (gasp!). If I haven't told you already, I really enjoy cooking and I enjoy having nice tools for cooking. But my stuff is in the kitchen, so we all use it to cook whatever we want. I see this in a positive light - that it helps me to hold loosely to those things that could otherwise become major hang-ups.

Unless the Lord has other plans, this sharing a house thing is just for a season. We're just trying to learn what we can while we're here.

50 Cent

2008-07-24T17:04:00.004-05:00

Did you hear that 50 Cent is suing Taco Bell for using his name? I guess they say something about "fifty cent" in a commercial or something. Does anyone else this this is HILARIOUS???

Maybe I'll change my name to Antioxidant...then whenever there's some healthy drink or fruit on the TV, I can sue them! "Hey, they can't use my name! I'm Antioxidant, and I've got a name to uphold. After all, what's going to happen to my son, Flavinoid?"

So did 50 Cent name his kids like Nickel and Dime? Sixpence? That would be the girl name.

Solitude

2008-07-23T17:25:00.004-05:00

I am away from home this week, attending a weeklong conference for work. I've been here since Monday morning, and although I've been talking to Jeff on the phone at every opportunity, I am still experiencing a fair amount of alone time just by the nature of the schedule and my accomodations. For an extrovert like me, this is both a challenge and an opportunity. A challenge because I tend to get anxious if I'm alone for extended amounts of time...and an opportunity because, if I can make myself relax, I can really listen. I can really listen to my life, and my innards.

I guess I'm a mystic hobbyist.

It's fun and useful because I don't do it all the time, and only voluntarily.

I have some treasured friends who seem to live in their mind, and they emerge on occasion to play in the external world before retreating in (I'm sure) exhaustion...so I'm pretty much the opposite.

So here's what I heard last night:

How much time do I waste on ineffective speech? Gossip. Coarse talk. Cynical speculations. Fresh water and salt water don't come from the same source. How much more powerful would I be if I only spoke those words the Lord blesses?

I actually couldn't sleep last night because of this thought, and sent myself a text message (I know I'm a nerd. I would have had to get out of bed for pen and paper.) so it would quit rattling around in my head.

I haven't totally processed it. Just thought I would throw it up here as a jumping off point. I've got a syllabus to write...

Peace.

Is Jeff ever home alone with one of the other roommates?

2008-07-17T09:19:00.005-05:00

I shared a little in a previous post about how Jeff and I have changed our interactions while our roommates are around. Essentially, we have less private time and the changes have grown out of that. One thing that has come up a couple times is whether or not Jeff is ever home alone with another of the roomates.

My initial reaction to this question was, "Duh...YES. We live there. It happens." We do not coordinate our schedules so that he and I always leave and return at the exact same time. Could you imagine?! I guess I thought it was pretty absurd. But upon further reflection I saw the concern, caution, and maybe even apprehension in that question. And if I were totally honest, I did some serious thinking about my husband living with single women before we moved in.

The conclusion I came to was basically the conclusion that I hoped Jeff would come to for me, if we ever live with some single dudes. I trust him, his commitment to our marriage, and his ability be appropriate with our roommates. The other side of that equation, of course, is the roommates (are the roommates?), and their ability to be appropriate as well. And I trust them, too. On a personal note, jealousy has been much more of an issue for me with Jeff than it ever was in any of my other relationships. It started when we got engaged, and I think it was just, "Oh man, this one is for real. The stakes here are really high." I am still very protective of my relationship with him and I have no problem telling him when I think some chick is inappropriate or too familiar or if I just think she's crazy. And although it's never come to it, I would have absolutely no problem telling some crazy, inappropriate, and/or flirty chick what to do with herself when she's around my man. After all, the stakes are high here and I'm not messing around with immaturity. Grow up and act like a woman.

Okay. I'm getting a little fired up. I need to take a few deep breaths...alright, I'm calm again. Some guidelines for you from our experience:

1. Don't feel bad about being married. Although our roommates have always been gracious, let's face it - some single people are bitter. Let them be. God gave you this spouse and he/she is your priority now. If you live with someone, or are close friends with someone who can't handle that, it's their problem to fix, not yours. (I should also say, I was 28 when we got married and I know what it feels like to be aging with no real prospects. It was scary sometimes. At the same time, by the grace of God I never resented others for finding happiness in marriage.)

2. Don't be lovey-dovey around your single roommates. Have some decorum and help them feel comfortable with the two of you as a unit.

3. Take all the private time you need to make sure you stay connected primarily to each other, and to everyone else after that. Jeff and I are both huge extroverts, so we naturally want to be where the party is at all times. We have to be intentional about time just with each other. And we are always so happy that we do.

4. Keep your relationship private. Don't gripe, don't discuss disagreements, and don't say something about your spouse that you wouldn't say in front of your spouse.

5. Stand by your man, or woman. While Tammy Wynette's song with this title is a little troubling with its allusion to excusing extramarital affairs, when I overlook that part of the song, I see an exhortation to be loyal and be a cheerleader. And everyone needs a cheerleader sometimes. Be a cheerleader in private, and if you really want to make him/her feel special, be a cheerleader when other people can hear you.

By God's grace, it has been really easy for us to live with these ladies and that is due in large part to their ability to respect our boundaries and just generally be "okay" with us as a couple. It's a fabulous blessing to have such wonderful folks in our lives.

Flat-Iron Steak and Twice-Baked Potatoes

2008-07-11T11:36:00.002-05:00

It's Friday and I don't feel like getting very deep, which the next question on our list will require. I'll tackle that in a few days, but for now, here's a pretty simple meal that we enjoy for it's affordability, ease, and deliciousness.

What you need:

1 Flat Iron Steak (usu. 2-3 lbs; serves about 4 people)
1 big baking potato for every 2 diners (3 potatoes for 6 diners, etc.)
sour cream
butter
cheddar cheese
cooked and crumbled bacon (about one slice per diner)
green onion
Ranch dressing
Whatever else you like on a potato
Salt and Pepper
Vegetable Oil

Preheat your oven to 350 F. Scrub potatoes under running water with a clean washrag or vegetable brush. Dry thoroughly. Prick all over with a fork, then brush each potato with some veg oil (think sunscreen). Season the skin with salt, then put potatoes directly on the rack of your preheated oven. No foil, no cookie sheet, nothing. Cook for 1 hour and 15 minutes, or until the potatoes give easily when you squeeze them.

When the potatoes have about 30 minutes to go, preheat your George Foreman grill. If you don't have one of these, preheat a non-stick skillet over medium to medium-high heat. Remove the steak(s) from the fridge to a plastic cutting board. Brush with veg oil, and season liberally with salt and black pepper. Allow the steak(s) to marinate while you finish the potatoes.

Remove the cooked potatoes from the oven to a clean cookie sheet. Using a pot holder, grasp each potato firmly and cut in half length-wise, being careful not to tear the skin. Scoop the potato flesh with a tablespoon into a large mixing bowl, and be careful not to puncture the skin. Then add butter, sour cream, bacon, cheese, chopped green onion, and a fair amount of salt and pepper. Mix with a hand-mixer, then spoon this back into the potato skins and top with more grated cheese. Pop these in the oven while you cook the steak(s).

Cook the steaks on your preheated grill or skillet for 6-8 minutes per side. This will be about medium rare, and you don't want to go much past this as flat-iron steak tends to get tough when it's overcooked. Remove the steak to a cutting board, and allow to rest for five minutes before slicing.

Remove the potatoes from the oven.

Slice the steaks thinly across the grain and arrange on a serving platter. Serve with the potatoes and your favorite steak sauce. Enjoy!

How do you handle the money side of things?

2008-07-09T00:00:00.004-05:00

I have lived in a handful of roommate situations. And I have probably handled rent, utilities, groceries, household supplies, etc., slightly different in each situation. From these experiences I have concluded that there is no better way to do this. It is just important to figure out a method that everyone in the house understands and agrees upon beforehand.

Regarding rent and utilities, we basically split these up per person. Also the bills are not all in one person's name; while we all love each other, I think it does help us feel "safer" in a sense to know that we share the financial burden together in this way. (Our landlords would only put one name on the lease, which is understandable.)

When the time comes each month, the designated person will collect all the bills, do the math, and then post it for everyone else to see. Since the lease is in our name, and rent is the biggest check, everyone else pays us the difference of their combined expenses and their designated bill. If that doesn't make sense, and you want me to send you an example, just let me know. However, I am not by any stretch of the imagination detail-oriented, and I feel great peace to leave this mess to others.

Early on we figured that it would be easier to share some of our food. Five adults sharing one kitchen (one stove, one fridge, etc.) can make for crowded meal times, and we think, not the best use of our resources. Basically we share almost all suppers (whoever is cooking will let everyone else know if it's shared food or not...but 95% of the time, it is), and some breakfasts. Everyone will take a sandwich or leftovers or eat out for lunch. This begs the question, how do you shop? Well, we made a list. Just call me Jacob (I love LOST!).

Our list is actually pretty mundane compared to Jacob's. When we moved in, we had a little meeting and wrote down all staple items for the household. This includes groceries as well as other stuff like paper towels, cleaning products, laundry detergent, etc. Basically, stuff that we all use and, therefore, we knew it would be easier to have one or two instead of five different types of laundry detergent. We even discussed preferred brands, bargains, etc. Then Jeff did his math magic (he is one of the resident detail gurus), and figured an amount that each of us should contribute to the "community fund" each month. Right now that is $35 per person. So if we are out of milk and bread, anyone can grab a few bucks from the envelope and purchase these things. We return all receipts to this envelope, and then Candy balances it out at the end of the month.

If we purchase a grocery item with our own money that we do not want to share, we simply put our name on it.

If we are expecting guests for supper (other than the close friends who drop by often), we will let everyone know via a household calendar that hangs in the kitchen. I don't think anyone has ever verbalized this, but we all pretty much understand that if you're having someone over for supper, you will definitely share space and probably share food with the rest of the household. I guess in this respect, privacy is infringed upon -- but then again, none of us really wanted to live alone anyway. It's all a big trade-off.

My bro-in-law, Brent, has asked a very important philosophical question. I know this question rose from deep within him, from his primal connection to and empathy for the only other male in the house:

How many bathrooms do you have??

Well, Brent, here's your answer. We have 2.5 bathrooms. Jeff and I live in the master bedroom which has a full bathroom, there's another bathroom upstairs, and then a half bath downstairs. We know we wanted at least two...I think maybe it would be possible to live with just one, but not for us. We're not that crazy.

So...how are you guys getting along?

2008-07-03T15:05:00.005-05:00

I love this question. It is usually accompanied by this priceless facial expression - a mixture of curiosity, humor, concern, and just the tiniest dash of dread at what I'm about to say. It's as if they are half-way expecting me to say, "We love it! We're never moving out! We're gonna start a colony!" and half-way expecting, "Yeah, we pretty much hate each other by now. I weilded a knife during an argument the other day." They don't know what to expect, I guess because this is a very unexpected living arrangement.

The short answer is we're getting along just fine. We have had tense moments and disagreements and arguments and awkwardness, in some small measure. We have also had laughter and familiarity and inside jokes and sharing, in heaping amounts. It's real life, you know, and we are taking the good with the bad. I guess it's that authenticity everyone talks so much about. I would hope, anyway. None of us were very sure of what to expect when we moved in, either, just like people aren't sure of what I'll say when they ask about what's going on. I think we all had a fair amount of trepidation along with our willingness, if we are honest. It makes me think of this Groucho Marx quote I saw the other day...

"I would never join a group that would accept someone like me as a member."

It made me smile when I read it, but there's also some truth hidden in the humor, isn't there? You see, I need to tell you something about myself. I am a Judger. Plain and simple. I am a decision-maker, and I don't enjoy suspense a great deal thank-you-very-much. The up side of this trait is that I'm good at making quick decisions, and not looking back once I have. The down side is that sometimes I apply this quickness to decide to people. And a person isn't a very static subject, like deciding what to have for dinner. Spaghetti will always be spaghetti, but people have this amazing capacity to change from day to day.

So what I've learned mostly from living in the Cove (our address), what has become my mantra really, is, "Acceptance, acceptance, acceptance." I'm not there (wherever "there" is), but it has helped.

Another thing I think we have done pretty well is that we talk when we have problems. I know...good thing you're not paying for this, right? :) But given the family-of-origin issues for most of us in the house, that IS pretty significant. If something is awkward, we say, "Wow, that was awkward. What just happened there?" If I am offended, or I suspect I may be the offender, I approach the other person within a reasonable amount of time to work it out. By the grace of God, this has always ended in a positive way.

So. We're doing fine, thanks for asking. And I want to leave you with a recipe. All of us Cove dwellers LOVE Mexican food, but it seems that whenever we make it, we have these random leftovers, and Kim and I formulated this recipe to deal with some of that (with some help from a "Good Eats" episode I saw a couple years ago).

Mexican Lasagna

12 six inch corn tortillas (flour would work, too, but corn tortillas are cheaper)
2 cups or so of enchilada sauce, taco sauce, salsa, or ro-tel
1 lb. cooked and cubed chicken, or taco meat, or shredded pork, or plain ground beef (just not raw)
1 can black beans, pinto beans, or kidney beans
A lot of shredded cheese (cheddar, monterey jack, whatever)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray a 2-qt. casserole dish with Pam. Dump the sauce, beans and meat into a skillet and heat over medium heat just until bubbly. To make sure the lasagna is moist enough, it should be pretty saucy, so add more ro-tel, etc. (even a can of plain diced tomatoes would work here) if needed. Layer your lasagna in this order until you run out of ingredients: 3 corn tortillas (to as closely resemble a single layer as possible), meat mixture (a couple of scooper-fuls per layer), and cheese. Your top layer should be cheese.

Cover and heat in the oven for about 30 minutes, then remove the lid and heat for an additional 10 minutes or until the cheese on top is kind of brown. Garnish with fresh salsa and sour cream. This makes 8 big servings and is really good with those leftover chips and cheese dip.

Questions

2008-07-02T07:41:00.005-05:00

Since January we have been asked lots of questions about our living situation by friends, family, and random acquaintances. People are generally encouraging about our living situation, and some don't seem to think it's a good idea. I can tell from the types of questions they ask. Nevertheless, I will try to answer as many of these questions as possible, posting each discussion as a separate blog and then returning to this post to link them when they are complete.

As of last night, my roommates know about this new blog and that they should feel free to give their input and/or totally contradict me as I am not the authority on living in our house. As Kim is very active in the blog community, I expect you will at least read some very insightful commentary from her end. Her front end, that is.

So, um...anyway. Here are the questions:

1. So how are you guys getting along?

2. How do you handle grocery shopping and bills - the money side of things?

3. Does it ever happen that Jeff is home alone with one of the other roommates, and how do you handle this?

Actually I wasn't asked this question exactly like this. A very righteous acquaintance, when I told her of our living situation, said, "Wow. I bet it's tough for you and Jeff to coordinate being at the house together all the time, so that he's not alone with one of the other women." I said, "Uh..." Basically that's what I said. I could tell she was grappling with whether these young hippies were crazy or not, and I didn't want to agitate her further. I let it go, but I will give a hopefully more succinct answer here.

4. Don't you miss having your own home?

5. How do you split up household chores?

6. A mother and baby live in the house. What's the dynamic of caring for and disciplining the baby?

7. Why did you decide to live in community in the first place?

I will start going down the list of questions very soon. Feel free to add your own (readers or roommates), and we can discuss whatever. Peace to you.

Living In Community: The Newlywed Adventure

2008-07-01T12:15:00.005-05:00

Last summer my husband, Jeff, and I had been married a little over a year. Our current living situation was an amazing blessing - housesitting for missionaries during their one year assignment overseas. We paid only utilities, and the house was way nicer than anything we could have afforded then, or now, or probably for about 25 years. But like I said, this blessing only lasted a year, and so we started talking about what was next.

We weren't quite ready to take the plunge and buy a house. Additionally, we had been discussing with some friends various ways to live in community, then one day Jeff and our friend Candy half-jokingly talked about the option of us renting a place with her and her current roommate, Kim, when we left the big house. Zoom to December, and my sister (who had jumped on the bandwagon) and I were looking at houses. We providentially found the perfect one: a four bedroom, two and a half bath home with a great kitchen, backyard, and neighborhood.

Now it's July, and you would not be shocked to know that we have all learned a lot about each other and living together and living with people in general. The following posts will deal with day-to-day details, logistics, recipes (cooking for lots of people can be tricky!), grocery shopping, relationship dynamics...probably I will write more from the practical perspective than the philosophical (though I do reserve the right), because there seems to be in my estimation lots of discussion out there about the 'why' of communal living, and less about the 'how'.

Now that introductions are out of the way, I would like to share a little about how our marriage has changed. I have learned about how to live with roommates and my husband, and Jeff and I have made a few changes in our relationship to adapt to our new situation:

1. We have become more intentional about daily "us" time. Although we aren't legalistic about it, we try to spend fifteen minutes or so when we get home from work in our bedroom processing our day. This practice developed from necessity after several weeks of talking as we are falling asleep and not communicating very well as a result.

2. We go on dates again. Like many other newlyweds, we had almost no discretionary money, so we would cook supper and rent a movie for a stay-at-home date. But in our new home, just like our daily time alone, we have learned to be intentional to spend longer amounts of time reconnecting. This has been lots of fun, spending time and money just on us. We'll also do needful stuff together, like grocery shopping and other errands, that we didn't do as often when we lived alone.

3. We have changed how we talk to each other. Most married folks (well, and unmarried, for that matter) understand that there are things that you can say to your spouse when you're alone that you cannot say when you are around other people. For example, I am generally receptive to Jeff's advice about clothing and such because, honestly, he has great taste. But it's much different for me in am emotional sense when we're sitting in the living room with someone else and he says, "Why don't you wear the red shirt?" Likewise, I have had to be much more conscious not to correct him or give suggestions, to which he is generally receptive, if we're around roommates.

Although some of these details may seem cumbersome or overly technical, we have approached this living in community thing as an adventure and therefore have had a very positive experience. I hope you will enjoy reading about our adventure as much as we are enjoying being on it!